


When the day met the night

by Justasmalltownfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Boy Dean, Child Abuse, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Dean Has a Sexuality Crisis, High School, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justasmalltownfangirl/pseuds/Justasmalltownfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were children, Castiel and Dean were best friends. They thought they would be together forever, but tragic fate drove them apart and Dean left.<br/>13 years later Dean comes back. Cas is happy, popular and openly gay. Dean is troubled, can't be bothered with school and is anything but positive towards homosexuality. But maybe there's something more behind the hard exterior, and maybe Cas is the only one who can see it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From pieces of broken memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> If you enjoy this prologue-like chapter and want more then make sure to let me know, and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated. I won't make a lot of author's notes, but I wanted to start out with one. So... yeah. I basically wanted to say hi and I suppose I've done that now.  
> So, fasten your seatbelts and get ready - because you're in for a bumpy ride (hopefully).

Cas saw the trucks arrive by the house on the other side of the street. He did not approve. He had liked Mrs Tran and she had cookies in a cabinet that she always gave him. He wanted her to live there and give him cookies when he was mad at his parents, but she hadn't been there for weeks. His parents had told him that Kevin had put her in a home, that she was too old to live by herself and shouldn't have to be all on her own. Cas didn't understand why Kevin couldn't go live with her, or why he didn't count as company. Mrs Tran wasn't on her own, he went over there several times a week and if he had to he would gladly go every day. His parents had laughed and patted him on the head. He hated when they did that, when they acted like he was a little baby and didn't understand anything.

And now the new family was moving in. He had watched them unload boxes from the trucks all day. He had asked his parents why they were so many and why they were all men, and they had told him that that wasn't the family but guys the family had hired to move their stuff there. That only made him hate this new family even more. Why couldn't they move their own stuff? Why did all those poor men have to do it for them?

But he still wanted to see the new family. Because there were so many boxes that they must have loads of stuff, and maybe there was some fun stuff. Maybe he could go over and look at the stuff and reconsider not liking them. So he waited, until a black car finally parked on the front yard. He wrinkled his nose. His dad had said that you weren't supposed to park on grass all the times he had suggested it, so he knew it was bad and he hated the family even more.

A dark-haired man and blonde woman got out on opposite sides of the front seats. A mom and a dad. He was tall and scary and she was really fat. She looked and pointed at the house and he opened the door to the backseat and a little boy got out. Even from the opposite side of the street Castiel could see that he was his age and that he was blond like his mother.

Suddenly Cas thought that he might not need to hate this new family after all. Maybe that boy was really fun, maybe he could be his friend. His parents had often told him that he should have friends, but he had said that Mrs Tran was friends enough. He didn't get why he needed more, but they said he needed some closer to his age. But Cas didn't like the kids his age. They weren't fun like Mrs Tran, they were always boring. So his hopes weren't high when he – after looking twice – crossed the road and walked up to the other boy.

”Hi”, he said.

The boy was stood by the car while his parents were talking and laughing at the front door of the house. He looked angry and Cas almost changed his mind, but then he looked up at him. He had green eyes and freckles and he looked a little like a fairytale prince.

”My name is Castiel”, he said then.

The other boy looked at him for a second.

”I'm Dean”, he said eventually.

”I'm four”, Cas said and held up four fingers to clarify.

”Me too”, said Dean, and now he smiled a little.

”Why is your mom so fat?” Cas said and tilted his head.

”There's a baby in her belly”, Dean replied. ”It's my little brother.”

Cas wrinkled his nose and questioned once again what he felt about this family.

”What's he doing in there?” he asked.

”He's growing”, Dean said, like he knew all about it. ”And then when he's big enough he'll come out and I can play with him.”

Cas nodded. It made a little sense, but he would have to ask his parents about it when he got home.

”I live in that house”, he said and pointed at his green house with the porch and the grass that dad always said he should cut.

”I live in Lawrence”, Dean said. ”It's in Kansas.”

”But you're gonna live in this house”, Cas said.

”Yeah”, Dean replied and sighed. ”But I don't know if I want to.”

Cas hummed a little. He liked Dean. He could probably be funny. He could probably be his friend. Not because he wanted one, but because his parents wanted him to have one. He would rather have Dean than someone else.

”Could we be friends?” he asked.

”Sure”, Dean said.

He didn't look as angry anymore, Cas realized.

”Do you have any toys?” he asked.

”They're in the boxes”, Dean said.

”I have Lego in my room”, Cas said. ”Do you want to come and play?”

Dean wanted to be angry a little while longer, so his parents noticed it and maybe changed their minds. But his toys were all packed up and he was getting a bit bored, so he nodded.

***

Cas and Dean became friends very quickly, as often is the case with small children without any inhibitions. In fact, they became close to inseparable. Cas had never had it easy making friends, he had never seen the point in it and he had never liked other children enough to give it a go. Whenever he did he never knew what to do or how to do it. In kindergarten he stayed with the teachers and they read him books and it was all good, but at home he was always alone and bored. Especially since after Mrs Tran had left. He sat in his room and played with his toys and when they had time his parents joined him, but they both worked and when they didn't do that they had to take care of the house. Clean, wash clothes, do the dishes, cook the food, cut the grass. Cas was left on his own.

Dean had never had that problem. He could talk to anyone about anything forever, go on and on about everything and nothing and not hesitate once. He was great at playing with other kids and he always made friends wherever he went. But when they moved all his friends were left behind. Mary didn't work because she was pregnant, so there was no need for him to go to kindergarten. She liked being home with him, but he was not pleased with being alone with her. He wanted friends and she was his mom, she wasn't fun at all, especially not with that big stomach. His only option for a friend besides her was really Castiel, the odd kid that lived in the house just across the road.

Cas didn't play like other children and he was difficult to talk to, sometimes he forgot to answer and sometimes he forgot to listen. He always wanted things his own way too, but he was never good at saying what that way was. He just got angry and pouted in a corner. But Dean liked him. He could be fun and he could use words he had never heard and didn't understand.

When Sam was born, Dean had to stay at Castiel's house. They were up all night, giggling and talking about how much fun they would have all together. Sam would be just as much fun as them, they both agreed.

”We can call him Sammy”, Cas suggested, because Dean called him Cas even though his name was Castiel.

His brother's name would really be Samuel, but everyone else would call him Sam. They could have their own name for him and they would be a group.

”Yes!” Dean agreed.

They were both equally as disappointed when they got to see Sammy and he was all little and pink and wrinkly and couldn't even speak. Mary said that he would grow bigger, and Dean and Cas couldn't wait for that to happen.

Their parents had become friends too. They would have barbecues and make dinner for each other and Mary and John would bring little Sammy and Cas' mom would hold him and say over and over how cute he was. Dean and Cas would play in his his room because they were all boring and they only ever came down when it was time to eat.

One day Cas' parents told him that two men and two women could get marry. He couldn't remember the context or how they got to the subject, but he knew that that's what they had said. And he was pleased, because he would much rather marry Dean than a girl, and he told him that.

”You get married when you love someone”, they said.

”Then I love Dean”, he said.

They shook their heads and laughed, but then they said 'sure, if you still want to when you're old enough'.

Cas couldn't wait to be old enough. He told Dean that they could get married and he said that it was weird, but Cas said that his parents were never wrong so he believed him.

At the dinner table the Novaks told the Winchesters all about it. They laughed and said that they would make a cute couple indeed. Mary agreed and jokingly suggested Sam as best man. John sat quietly and smiled a strained smile when someone told a joke and everyone else laughed.

But Cas hadn't been joking. He had been dead serious about marrying Dean.

***

Mary was just going to the store. She had Sam in the passenger seat. It was winter and the road was icy. The radio was playing The Beatles when she lost control over the car and it flipped over the edge into a ravine. She was killed instantly.

Sam was six months old at the time. He survived, but only barely. He had suffered severe head trauma and the doctors said he would never recover. Dean could hear his father cry inside the bathroom and he didn't want to play with Cas during his lenghty hospital visits.

He wanted his mother back. He wanted her to hug him and sing him 'Hey Jude' and blow on his wounds. His dad was too busy now. He cried a lot and he didn't have time for him. He said he had to take care of Sam. Dean didn't understand why the doctors couldn't take care of Sam and make him better. Cas hugged him when he started crying. Cas' mother called John but he couldn't come pick him up. She said he had to stay at the hospital and Dean cried even more because he wanted to go home.

Eventually John told him that they had to move. Dean didn't want to move away from there. He wanted to stay there with Cas, because Cas was funnier than dad and Sammy. His dad promised that they wouldn't sell the house, that they would just rent it out to another family and then they could come back when Sammy was well again. They had to go a specialist hospital with specialist doctors in another state and they could fix him.

Dean got angry. Cas got angrier. He threw a tantrum. He was throwing stuff and kicking and hitting and screaming because he was so angry. He didn't want Dean to go and leave him all alone again. He didn't want to be alone. His parents told him that everything would be okay but he didn't believe them. He knew that they lied, because it couldn't be okay without Dean. They were supposed to get married, but now Dean would be an eternity away from him. He didn't know what to do.

John loaded his boxes and two sons in his Chevy Impala and off they went. He was stern and serious and his hands clenched the wheels as he backed out of the driveway and drove down the street. Cas was watching from his own yard. He hadn't even hugged Dean before they went.

Dean stared out at him through the back window and put a hand on it, as if he was trying to reach out and touch him before it was too late and he would be too far away to ever do it again.

_I will come back,_ he thought. 

He didn't say it because Cas wouldn't hear it, but he promised himself that he would. One day, when his dad didn't cry when he cooked microwave dinner and Sammy was okay, he would come back. No matter how long it took, no matter if the street had been destroyed by robots or an alien invasion and nothing was left and Cas had forgotten him and wasn't waiting. Of course, he didn't think it would be that long. He thought he would be back in jiff.

Because he would be back. Whatever happened, he would be back.

 


	2. I guess we're back to us

**13 years later**

Castiel turned the key again. One hum, two hums. Silence. He sighed, turned the key again. One hum. Something that sounded like a cough. Then quiet. He gave it one last shot. Nothing. The car had given up.

Cas groaned, got out of the car and threw his bag over his shoulder. He leaned against his catastrophe of a truck and waited, because that thing was not taking him anywhere. He didn't even know why he tried anymore. After every holiday he decided to drive himself to school the first day, and every time his car was reluctant to cooperate. He had driven himself there once, when he had first gotten it for his 16 th birthday. They had towed it back home, because that was how long it had worked. It was ridicilous really, but he supposed he liked to pretend to be independent.

But he always had a backup, of course. Because every time, the very same blue jeep pulled up beside him and the same boy grinned the same smile at him.

”I heard there was a damsel in distress around here”, Gabriel said.

Cas rolled his eyes and sighed as he made his way around to the passenger seat.

”Are supposed to be my knight in shining armour?” he asked, throwing his bag in the back seat.

”Sorry”, Gabe snickered. ”We're pretty low right now.”

”If this is the best you've got”, Cas mumbled as he got in, ”then you must be almost out.”

”Whole lot of princesses”, his friend joked and started driving, ”not enough knights. We're being overworked, I'm telling you.”

He turned to Cas and gave him a look.

”You could just get the goddamn car fixed, you know”, he suggested.

Cas hummed to agree. He wouldn't get the car fixed. Too much planning.

”Or continue to use me as a chaffeur”, Gabriel continued. ”I ought to charge you.”

Cas didn't feel like talking right then. His brain didn't want to come up with words and sentences and his mouth didn't want to open and close. It happened to him a lot, and he often wished Gabriel would understand it and just  _stop babbling._ Gabriel had been his best friend for years, but he never did seem to completely get him. Instead he just threw glances at him and tried to come up with something to say. Cas didn't want him to say anything, but he couldn't really say that.

”What did you do during the summer?” Gabriel asked to break the silence.

That was another thing, another thing he didn't get and never would.

”I didn't go to France”, Cas replied under his breath, more because it just sorta came out than because he was actually angry at Gabriel or wanted him to feel guilty. Sometimes he just said things, sometimes he just couldn't filter through them.

Gabriel sighed.

”It wasn't even that fun”, he said.

”It was hilarious”, Cas said.

”Hey, you know why they didn't want to let you go. And I can't blame them, Cas. Not that it wouldn't have been a lot better with you there, but I wouldn't be able to protect you all the time.”

”You wouldn't have to!”

”Of course I would!” Gabe snorted. ”All those other boys, all the _French_ boys-”

”What's wrong with French boys?”

”There's nothing wrong with French boys, that's not my point!”

Castiel demonstratively stared out the window and crossed his arms over his chest to mark that the conversation was over. He wasn't a child, sometimes he hated when Gabriel was like that.

”Are you okay?” he asked. ”Nothing's- happened?”

”No”, Cas muttered. ”Nothing.”

He wasn't even lying. That was part of the problem.

***

On the other side of that same small town, Dean Winchester was maneuvring a black Chevy Impala through streets he didn't know the names of. It wasn't that he was purposefully late for school, he just didn't know where it was. He supposed that was a thing he could have looked up in advance, but that wasn't the sort of thing he did, and he didn't plan on asking someone on the street. They could get the impression that he  _wanted_ to find the school, which was not true. He did not want to go to school. But he didn't have anything better to do in that shit town, and he  _had_ promised his dad he would go. Like he usually kept his promises to him. It was actually laughable, but he had decided to try. If not to keep himself from getting bored out of his mind.

Thing is that he had thought he would find the school all by himself. It was weird, but he had expected to know where everything was. Because – and this was even weirder – he thought of that place as his home. He had lived so much longer in Chicago and even in Kansas when he was little, but he still thought of that town as home. It was crappy and lame and he hadn't been there since he was four, but he had always waited to get back there. He didn't even know why.

That was why he had thought he could find the high school. Not that he had ever been there when he had lived there the first time, it was just a feeling he had. A feeling of 'I know this place, I will find my way just fine'. It was a small town either way, so it shouldn't take so damn long to go up and down every street. He would find it eventually. But he had thought it would be easier, that it all would be easier.

Suddenly, there it was. The high school. Complete with concrete walls, asphalted yard and tiny windows. Dean thought it looked more like a prison. He was going to suffocate in there, he knew it. He wouldn't be able to breathe within those walls. Still he had to go, because he didn't want to face the consequences of any more skipping.

It was empty outside. He had missed the assembly already but that was fine, they wouldn't be able to tell that he hadn't been there. He didn't hurry to get inside but he didn't have a reason to. He wanted to stay outside as long as he could, free and careless and without anything on his mind or any suffocating walls surrounding him. It was easier because he hadn't even bothered to check which time his first class started, for all he knew he could have missed that too or he could have all the time in the world. Christ, he didn't even know what subject his first class was! If anyone asked he would say history.

He opened the front door. There were too many people, they were everywhere. It always made him nervous, people. Because he didn't know what they were thinking or feeling or saying about him after he had walked past him. He didn't have any idea, and they were too many.

He didn't know any one of them, not one. They were all strangers and they could be absolutely anything. The guy with the cardigan could be a serial killer – not that Dean had anything against cardigans – and the blonde cheerleader type girl could be- Well, a cheerleader for one. But she could also have an STD or be pregnant or a lesbian. And that group of friends she had surrounding her could be part of some strange satanic cult, and Dean would never know. That's why he hated it so much, all those strange people he didn't know.

Like lightning struck he set eyes on someone he knew. No, someone he had known. But someone he recognized. He wasn't supposed to recognize him because he had been four for crying out loud, he didn't remember anything from when he was four. But there he was, dark hair and blue eyes, and Dean knew.

”Cas?” he said.

The boy wrinkled his nose and stared at him in momentary confusion, but Dean wasn't confused. He knew. That was the boy that had stomped on his Lego ship. That was the boy that had once pinched him in the arm so hard that he had hit him in the face with a plastic spade. That was the boy that had patted him on the back when his mother had died. That was the boy that had hugged him when he had cried.

That boy didn't remember him, he realized that. He smiled at him and tried to place him somewhere but didn't remember him and didn't know his name. Why should he? He had been four and it had been 13 years. But suddenly his eyes lit up.

”Dean?” he said. ”Dean Winchester?”

***

He didn't know why he recognized Dean. Maybe it was the freckles. When he was four he had asked him if he could have them. Maybe it was the nose. When he was four he had poked that nose and proclaimed ”I'm gonna marry you, Dean Winchester”.

Because apart from that and the green eyes, Dean was a completely different person. He had been four back when he knew him, now he must be 17 just like him. He did not look four anymore. He looked... hot. With the eyes and the lips and the body, because there was something under those clothes. Cas shrugged.

_Not doing that again,_ he thought.

”Oh my god!” he said instead. ”It really is you!”

Dean threw out his arms, but didn't say anything. Cas supposed he didn't know what to say, because he didn't either. He didn't know him, he didn't know what he was supposed to say. 

But then he remembered. Gabriel, standing beside him. Glaring suspiciously at Dean and looking a bit like an attack dog ready to go if he needed to. Ready to bite through a throat and pull loose an arm. Dean's throat and Dean's arm.

”This is Gabriel”, Cas said. ”And this is Dean. We-”

He started remembering more and more. All the things they had done and said, all the times they had made each other mad or happy. When he had sat in his room and planned their wedding. God! How had he ever forgotten all of that?

But the problem wasn't that. The problem was how much he should tell Gabe.

”Were neighbors when we were little”, he said.

_And best friends. And practically engaged._

”He moved away when-”

_Jesus Christ._ He remembered. Dean's mother had died. There had been a car crash or something. She had ruffled his hair and watched them play in her backyard, and then she had died. And Sam. Oh god, there was the brother too.

”How is Sammy?” he asked instead of completing the sentence he had started.

Did he have the right to call him Sammy? He had been six months old when he had last seen him, he had never known him. It had been 13 years. But he had come up with that nickname. He had named him Sammy, that was him. That had been their name for him, theirs and only theirs. He would call him Sammy, even if he had no right.

Dean twisted a little and his smile died down ever so slightly.

”He died”, he said. ”A couple months ago.”

”I'm so sorry”, Cas said.

Sammy had been a baby when he had seen him last. A tiny six month old baby with a brain damage and dead mother. He had only gotten to be 13 years old. It was weird, it was hard to fathom. He was supposed to have lived 80 more years, now he was just gone.

”It's fine”, Dean said and shrugged his shoulders. ”But thsat's why we- uh, we just moved back, me and dad.”

It was a bit strange how he suddenly avoided eye contact and constantly moved a little when he talked.

”In the old house?” Cas asked.

”Yeah”, Dean said. ”We never sold it, just rented it out. It was always the plan to get back, y'know?”

Cas nodded even though he didn't know.

_Dean Winchester lives in the house opposite mine,_ he thought, over and over.

He couldn't understand it. It was too big, too good. And he couldn't understand how it had ever been any other way, how Dean Winchester hadn't lived in the house opposite his. Because it was the way it was supposed to be, in a strange way. It was right, it felt right. And Cas hadn't had anything feel right for a very long time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all still cute and happy, but I can assure you that it won't last long. I'm just getting started over here...


	3. If all our life is but a dream

Cas had to tell Gabriel over and over that no, he did not have a crush on Dean Winchester, no, he was not interested in him in any way and no, he would most definitely never, ever flirt with him. Gabriel snorted and looked at him with furrowed brows.

”We were friends, _Jesus!_ ” Castiel said and closed his locker almost in his face.

”Yeah, that's really what that looked like”, Gabe said.

Cas sighed.

”So what?” he said. ”I'm 17 years old and you're not my mom, I can date whoever I want.”

”Exactly”, Gabe said. ”You're _17!_ And you've already been through so much, but now everything's fine and you're finally happy.”

”Everything is fine”, Cas repeated. ”I am happy.”

Because everything was fine, and he was happy.

”So don't go down that road again”, Gabe concluded. ”If nothing is wrong, why can't you just let everything be okay?”

”I will let everything be okay”, Cas promised.

He was honest, he was going to do exactly that. It wasn't his fault that they had a class together and Dean sat just in front of him and looked so good from behind. It wasn't like he could help staring at him the entire lesson. But that didn't mean anything, because a lot of guys looked good. There were a lot of guys he could stare at for ages. Didn't mean he wanted to do anything about it, that he wanted to date them. Didn't mean he wanted to marry them and live the rest of his life with them.

Okay, so at one point that's exactly what he had wanted to do with Dean. But he had been four years old, he hadn't understood the concept of marriage. He hadn't been in love with Dean, because four year olds aren't in love. They had been friends, best friends, and now they could be friends again. Dean just happened to look extremely good but that was completely fine. Hell, it was good even. He looked a lot better than Gabriel, it made a nice change.

It didn't matter what Gabriel said, he had no romantic interest in Dean Winchester. He was done with that, he was taking a break from it at least. And that was all fine, everything was good and he was happy. He felt no desire to mess all that up again, he didn't want to date anyone. Things were good, they were great, and he was fine with it.

It was an entirely different thing that he would never say no to Dean if he would ask him out. That didn't mean anything.

***

Dean found him in the cafeteria during lunch. He was sat over a book and some food in the corner of the room, and Dean steered there right away. He was the obvious choice, who else would he sit with? Cas was the only person he knew, so that's where he sat down. He saw that guy with a name that began with G at another table and how he glared at him, but Dean didn't care. People glared at him all the time.

”Hey”, he said.

Cas looked up confusedly from his book and stared at him.

”Woah”, he said. ”Hi.”

He rubbed a few fingers on his forehead.

”Why are you sitting all by yourself?” Dean asked.

”I was gonna study”, Cas said and smiled at him.

”Oh.”

Dean knew when he wasn't wanted, and for some reason he would care about it too when it came to Castiel. So he stood up to leave, fully aware that he would just chuck his lunch in the garbage can and walk out, because he would rather go hungry than have to go and sit with someone else that he didn't know. The pregnant, lesbian cheerleader with the STD was sat by the table next to the guy with the name that began with G, so he couldn't even sit with him.

”Don't go”, Cas said. ”It's fine, stay.”

”Are you sure?” Dean asked suspiciously. ”Because I can-”

”It's completely okay”, Cas said. ”I can afford to get a C on one test every now and again.”

Dean frowned.

”Test?”

”Oh, no”, Cas laughed. ”Not for you, just me. I've got- I'm catching up on some left overs, that's all.”

Dean breathed out in relief. He didn't study for tests either way, but if there was one then he would fail it and when he got home-

He was glad he didn't have one, that was all.

”Why?” he asked instead.

He sat down again and took a bite off the food. It was disgusting, but he hadn't expected anything else. And he was used to bad food.

”What?”

”Why are studying during lunch when your friends are over there?” Dean clarified. ”If you don't really need to?”

What he really wondered was why Cas let him sit there if he didn't let his friends do, why he chose him of all people, over his friends.

”That?” Cas scoffed. ”That's all Gabriel. He takes my studies more seriously than I do.”

”Why?”

”He's just worried”, he replied. ”I missed a lot and he's worried about me falling behind and not being able to graduate with them, doesn't want to see me get left behind I guess.”

He smiled shyly and continued eating while sticking his nose in the book again. Dean felt like there was more, but he didn't want to ask anymore. He ate his own food and let him study.

”Hey”, Cas said after a while, looking up from the book. ”Try-outs for the football team is tomorrow. If you want to try, I mean.”

Dean thought about it for a while. He didn't play football, but he supposed that if he wanted to he wouldn't be too bad. He could try. If he wanted to, that is. He had never wanted to before, but it could be good. If he wanted to be good. If he wanted to be good, then that's what he would do. Try out for the football team and study with Cas during lunch. He had a clean sheet there, he could do anything, be anything. If he wanted to. The thing was that he didn't really know why he would want to. He had been doing okay the way he had done it in his last school, why would he do anything differently? But then he supposed he already had. Back when he had shouted Cas' name, and then again when he had sat down to have lunch with him.

”Sure”, he said. ”Are you, are you on the team?”

Cas nodded.

”Yeah”, he smiled. ”I didn't play last spring, but I still have a position.”

Dean chewed on his food. He kind of wanted to. Kind of wanted to at least try. What harm could it do? He might as well give it a shot.

But when he went to drive home some guys were sitting at his car. It made him angry, because he didn't like people doing stuff with his car. And they could scratch it, and he would get in trouble.

”What the fuck are you doing?” he asked.

There were three of them, in trainers, sweatpants, t-shirts and leather jackets. They were smoking and one blew smoke right at him.

”What's faggot gonna do about it?” another one scoffed with a rusty voice.

Dean froze for a second.

_Who's faggot?_ he wondered.

There was no one behind him, he checked. So-

_Crap!_

It was him. He was faggot.

”What the hell are you talking about?” he asked aggitatedly.

He clenched a fist to get ready, if he had to punch someone. He wondered why they thought he was gay. Was it how he talked or walked? Was it how he dressed?

”I'm talking about your boyfriend”, the guy on his car said.

Dean exhaled in relief. That was a fixable problem, a misunderstanding he could solve.

”Yeah?” he said. ”And who'd that be?”

The guy that had blew smoke at him laughed.

”Uh, Castiel Novak”, the third one said, like it was obvious and he was the stupid one there.

Dean laughed.

”Why's that?”

One guy shrugged his shoulders.

”Dunno”, he said. ”You seemed his type.”

Dean went stiff and felt all the color disappear from his face. He was in shock, he could swear.

”You mean”, he said. ”He's gay?”

And then everyone laughed at him.

But how was he supposed to have known? Cas didn't seem gay, he didn't sound gay. And he was on the football team! The goddamn football team! He certainly hadn't been gay back when he knew him.

”Fucking hell”, Dean said.

”Fucking hell indeed”, a guy agreed.

***

Cas was excited to play football again. He could skip, that was how happy he was. He hadn't noticed that Dean Winchester had avoided him the entire day, because all he could think about was that he would finally get to play again.

Gabriel asked him if he really wanted to do it, but Castiel didn't know why he wouldn't. He was fine, he was happy, and he was all fixed up and healed. The doctor had given him the all clear, he could play and he would play.

Dean showed up at practice to try out. The coach made him do all sorts of stuff and Cas wanted to feel bad for him, but he was actually ridicilous. He had no coordination whatsoever, and he didn't think he caught the ball even once.

While he was looking at Dean and grinning to himself, someone suddenly ran into him. He hadn't been concentrating and it was too late to balance now, so he fell like a log right to the ground. A sharp pain shot through his leg.

”Sorry, dude!” Garth said from above. ”Are you alright?”

_Not again,_ Cas thought.  _Not when I get to play again. Not again, not again, not again._

”Yeah”, he said.

Garth reached out a hand and Cas took it and pulled himself up. He could stand on it at least and probably walk as well, but he thought it would bend if he tried to run. It didn't exactly hurt, but it felt funny, it felt wrong. Like something bad was going on in there.

He tried to catch his breath and gain up some courage to try to walk when Gabe jogged up to them.

”It's not your leg, is it?” he asked.

”No”, Cas lied. ”Leg's fine. I just lost my breath.”

”Sorry”, Garth repeated.

Gabe looked over at Dean as he started to walk over to them. He was walking fast with determined steps and gritted his teeth together.

”Didn't make the team?” Gabriel asked, a bit too jolly.

Dean glared at him.  
”No, I fucking didn't.”

He stomped away like an angry toddler. Gabe looked at Cas.

_Look_ , he seemed to say.  _He has a temper too._

”Shut up”, Cas said.

Practice was finished and the existing group with its new additions walked after Dean to the locker room. He was already in the shower when they got in, and he shot them all looks that would kill if they could.

Cas had a little trouble stretching out his leg and limped slightly.

”You sure the leg's fine?” Gabriel asked.

”Yes”, Cas replied and rolled his eyes. ”Of course it's fine!”

They all started to undress about the same time as Dean left the showers with a towel around his waist. Cas couldn't help but look, but anyone would because it was  _Dean Winchester_ and he looked like  _that._

”Wow”, Dean said and scoffed. ”Everyone's showering with the gay?”

Everyone was shocked so badly that they could only stare at him, not even Gabriel said a word. Then everyone's stares turned to Cas.

Cas tried to remain calm, tried to breathe. But it was so hard when it came from Dean. He didn't even know him, he didn't know why it mattered so much. Only that it wouldn't hurt even half as much if it had been absolutely anyone else.

_Think of something,_ he said.  _Say something._

”What sort of showering arrangements are you used to?” he asked and forced himself to smile so no one could see how bad it hurt.

He knew very well about all the talk, that everyone thought Dean Winchester had been to prison. He didn't know if he believed any of it at all, but he could use it if he had to.

Someone laughed. Dean snorted, grabbed his bag and went to change behind the lockers. Gabriel stared at Cas, but he didn't say anything because he was afraid his voice would break,

_What a shame,_ he thought.  _What a shame._

He had been best friends with four-year-old Dean, and he had liked 17-year-old Dean and thought he could be friends with him too. But it was fine, because there was nothing he could do about it. If Dean was like that it was all fine with him.

He didn't need to worry about anything as long as he had Gabriel anyway.

 


	4. A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming. Sorry about that! I honestly don't know if I'll manage to update this more frequently now, but I'll try and there will be more. You just have to be patient with me.  
> I also named the chapters now, so yeah, that's a thing. They're all from various P!atd lyrics because reasons.

Dean decided to go the way he had always gone, be the person he had always been, do the things he had always done. It was so much easier that way, and he had had it proven to him now. Football was difficult, Castiel was difficult. What he already knew was not difficult, that was easy. He knew how to act and what to do, what was expected of him and what he was supposed to say. He couldn't let anyone down that way, least of all himself. Changes are hard, Dean didn't like them. He despised them. He was fine, his life was fine. It was fine. Why make changes? He didn't make changes, especially not when he didn't know where they would take him or what they would lead to. Not when there was a possibility that they could make things worse and not fine.

He went to the guys who still sat on his car, but even if they hadn't he would have gone and found them instead.

”Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked.

One guy shrugged his shoulders, another one put out his cigarette with his foot.

”Yeah, sure”, the third one said. ”Whatever.”

They all got in the Impala and Dean started it. For a second he looked at himself in the rearview window and didn't know who he was, didn't recognize himself.

”I've got beer at my place”, one guy said.

_Get their names,_ Dean reminded himself.

”I know a place”, another guy said.

_This is who you are,_ Dean told himself.

But for the first time in his life, he wasn't so sure.

***

Gabriel drove Cas home in silence. Only when they he stopped outside his house did he talk.

”Are you fine?” he asked.

”Of course I'm fine”, Cas replied and winkled his nose. ”Don't you think I'm used to it?”

But he wasn't used to it. During all that time, through everything he had been through; he had never been bullied. Not in that way. And as it turned out, words  _could_ hurt as much as kicks and punches.

But Cas was fine. He could deal with that, just as it he had dealt with everything else.

”Piss off”, he said as he jumped out.

”Piss off you”, Gabriel replied with a grin.

Cas didn't like when he pitied him, when he treated him like he was a child or in need of protection. Because he  _was_ fine. He slept all night, but not too long. He didn't cry. Everything was working out, everything was fine. He was bored at times, and he didn't like how some people treated him the way Gabriel did. But those problems were small, and he could deal with them. Because he was fine.

He felt his phone buzz but didn't pick it up before he had gotten inside and was kicking off his shoes. It was a text.

_Hi_

And then a smiley, a smiling, blushing, happy smiley. Cas felt both a bit like that smiley and warm in his stomach, but also nervous and scared and everything in between. There was a person that at least didn't pity him, that had never treated him like a child. And Cas had missed it, missed him.

And he knew he wasn't supposed to, and he was fine. But he thought that things could be different this time, and he felt that warmth in his stomach. And it wouldn't be so bad, just a text, just one text.

_Hi,_ he wrote.

No smiley. He considered it, but decided against it. His thumb hovered over the send button for a few seconds, and he thought it through over and over again. But he wanted to do it, even though no one else wanted him to. And he didn't want to have to listen to them anymore, he didn't feel like he had to.

And he pressed the button and sent the text, and he knew what he was in for but he didn't want to believe it.

***

They drank beer on a cliff by the water. Dean took their names. Michael, Gadreel and Raphael. Dean didn't know which was which, but it was enough and he was a bit drunk.

He didn't drink because he liked the taste, he didn't drink because they did, he didn't drink because he wanted to be drunk. He drank because he did, because he had always done, because he was supposed to and didn't know what else to do. Maybe a part of him was doing it because he wanted to forget things and think of something else. Maybe it was a bit because there was something nagging in the back of his head and he didn't want it to.

For some reason he couldn't stop thinking about Castiel. Dean couldn't figure him out. On the one side he was nice, on the other he was gay. But it was weird, because he didn't seem to be. He was on the football team, he wasn't girly or flamboyant and he didn't giggle and his voice was deep. Dean had tested him with that comment, because he hadn't believed them at first. But then Castiel had confirmed it, and Dean was confused. Confused because apparently just about anyone could be gay and he would never know, even more confused because Castiel Novak was and Dean had liked him.

He dropped off Michael, Gadreel and Raphael at some abandoned warehouse with walls covered in graffiti. He didn't know what they were going to do there, but he hadn't been invited and didn't want them to think he was desperate so he didn't ask and just drove home.

He stood on the driveway for a while, tested his breath against his hand to see if it smelled of alcohol and prepared himself mentally for what he would find inside. He lingered, because he didn't want to go inside, he didn't want to go home. It was dark and he had been out too long and his breath did indeed smell of alcohol.

But he had no other place to go, he had no choice. So he went inside the house that was supposed to be his home, and closed the door quietly behind him. It was much bigger than it had been when he had lived there 13 years earlier, and it was darker and more silent and empty. It had been a happy place when Dean was young, it had been loud and bright and filled with toys and personal belongings. The furniture they had now were few, the personal belongings were even fewer and the toys were nonexistent. Everything to show that there were actual people living in there were the two photographs on the hutch in the hall and the beer bottles that covered all the tables. There was a bathroom that they couldn't use as all empty boxes had been stuffed in there, the air was thick and dusty and it smelled strangely of something Dean couldn't name, and alcohol.

”Where have you been?” John Winchester's booming voice suddenly broke the silence.

Dean froze as he stood, the voice had been coming from the living room.

”Out”, Dean replied.

He could hear his father cough. He had been drinking, which was bad. He sounded angry, which was even worse.

”You better have gone to school today”, John said. ”I'm calling there tomorrow and asking.”

Dean sighed in relief. John wasn't coming out from the living room, so he was safe. And Dean knew he wouldn't call the school, he would either forget it or find it a nuisance and Dean had no intention of reminding him to do it.

But he still walked slowly up the stairs and his room, trying to make as little noise as possible. However well he knew his father, he always had days of unpredictability and it was best not to aggitate him more than necessary. Even though aggitating him at all was inevitable.

Dean kicked off his shoes and sat down on his bed. On his bedside table was a paper, the instructions to an essay due the day after. But it was late, and Dean wasn't interested in doing any homework. He hadn't even read those instructions, and he didn't plan to either. Even if he wanted to, it was too late. He had made his choice already, and he wasn't even entirely sober yet.

He could hear the floorboards creaking downstairs, and then the refrigerator opened. Dean couldn't hear what came next, but he knew it was the all too familiar clinking of beer bottles. He thought again about Castiel, and he felt weird for reasons he couldn't yet understand.

***

Cas mentioned it at dinner, just in passing. Well, not really in passing. He had decided to make it seem that way, so that they wouldn't ask questions, so they wouldn't suspect anything, so they wouldn't sense something. He tried to sound like he hadn't planned it, like it had just crossed his mind, like he didn't really care.

”The Winchesters are back across the street”, he mumbled without even taking the time to properly swallow his food first.

”Oh, when was it they moved away from there?” his mother said with her a bit too excited voice. ”Must've been ages, mustn't it?”

And his father nodded as he chewed his own food.

”13 years, isn't it?” he commented. ”Cas was only little then, around four.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

”What was that kid's name?” his father continued. ”Don?”

”Dean”, Cas corrected him.

” _Dean_ ”, his mother nodded. ”You used to be best friends, you and Dean.”

”He's in my school”, Cas said. ”We have a few classes together.”

His mother gave him a look he couldn't quite read and a strange smile that made him uncomfortable.

”He's the reason we knew you were gay, y'know”, the father said. ”Already back then, with him.”

Cas furrowed his brows.

”You didn't know when I was four”, he said. ”I was _four_!”

Both his parents chuckled.

”You were still _terribly_ enchantedwith him”, his mother said and winked.

”We were _friends._ ”

His parents gave each other looks over the table.

”Yes, of course”, his father said without turning to look at Cas. ”Of course.”

Cas grunted so loudly that they knew not to continue and say something more, but they still gave each other those looks across the table and smiled contently to themselves as they shook their heads ever so slightly. Cas was angry with them, as he all too often was. Because he and Dean had never been anything but friends, as he so kindly had reminded him that day. They would never be anything but, that much Cas had understood. He was lucky if he would even have conversations with him in the future, and he was upset about that which made him upset about his parents.

”My leg's acting up again”, he mentioned in an attempt to change the subject.

Too late he realized that it had been the wrong topic to choose. His parents looked at each other again, but with worried expressions on their faces this time.

”Stop.”

His mother looked at him with concern and furrowed brows.

”Maybe you should wait a bit with the football”, she suggested in a soft voice.

”No. I can't.”

”It's not the end of the world”, his father said and titled his head.

”No, but it's the end of high school”, Cas muttered. ”I've got one year left, if I don't play this semester I might as well skip the next one too.”

His father nodded slowly.

”You should at least be careful”, his mother said. ”We might have another chat with the doctor.”

”I'll manage.”

”I just meant-”

” _I'll manage_ ”, Cas snapped her off.

In the silence that followed his phone buzzed, loudly enough for all three around the table to hear.

”Who's that?” his father asked.

Cas fished up the phone from his pocket and read the text.

”Dean”, he lied.

They were way too content with that answer.

 


	5. You move in circles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I keep forgetting about you! Don't let me do that, nag on me until I update!

Days, weeks, months passed. They didn't talk much, barely even looked at each other. It was strange that it was that way, Cas thought, when they had been best friends once, as close as people possibly can be. But things change, nothing is ever the same.

Dean was distant and cold towards him. It was as if he pretended that Cas didn't exist, and Cas felt invisible, angry and frustrated. It hurt him even more than mean comments or his head in a toilet would have. He felt like a ghost floating past Dean, not to be noticed but still a nuisance in his otherwise perfect, spotless existence. Cas wanted to spot that existence, he wanted to crash it and destroy it completely. Dean did not deserve that existence.

But he would be lying if he said he had stopped liking him. Alright, maybe he didn't like this 17 year old teenage bad boy Dean, not one bit. But he still remembered four year old Dean, splayed out on his bedroom floor to try to get Cas to jump over him, and ripping out the pages from his favorite book because he was angry at him. Dean had been a grumpy sort back then, Cas should have seen what sort of a teenager he would be. But he had liked that four year old, he had liked him a lot. He had been his very best friend, maybe even more than that if he was to believe what his parents said. Cas missed that Dean, but he knew he was gone.

Sometimes though, he could see pieces of that old Dean in the new one. He was tough and never cared about anything, but once they had a test and for a slight second Cas could see the facade drop and Dean's face losing all colour. Of course he was back to his usual self within a second, and when he got the test in front of him he just rolled his eyes and started drumming his pen against the desk as if to demonstrate that he would most certainly not going to write anything.

But Cas could see that he sneaked peeks of the questions sometimes, just let his gaze wander over them as if to test if he could do them and if he could then decide whether he should. He would raise his eyebrows ever so slightly, wrinkle his nose just a tiny, tiny bit and stop drumming with his pen for half a second.

Cas did not like him, no, not at all. He was a jerk, he was an asshole. But once he had been a scared little boy crying for a mother that would never come back, and his eyes had looked very much the same as they did as he looked at that test and knew that he would never pass it even if he wanted to.

Cas rolled his eyes at himself, because there was way too much of his friend Dean in that guy who was still Dean but not his friend. Too much for him to be able to overlook.

***

He was not intent on trying, no, not at all. If he had planned to try then he would have studied for it, and he would not have just tried but actually done it. If he wanted to try he would pass, he was not stupid. But he had no plans to try, no, none whatsoever. What was the point? What reason could there possibly be to try? What good would it do? It was a test, a dumb, fucking test in school. It would have no impact on his life in the future, it would not lead to anything. No, he would not try.

But when it was there right in front of him, he could not help but to look at the questions. Just to see. He was not going to try, but he sort of wanted to know if he would be able to do it. He just looked at them, only a bit, not planning to actually answer them.

But they were confusing, they were difficult. Dean knew he was not dumb, but they made him feel as if he was. They made him feel a bit worthless, that was all. Nothing he wasn't used to, he knew he wasn't worthless. Just felt like it every once in a while. But he could deal with that, of course he could. It was _nothing._

It must have showed on his face though, because suddenly he felt someone picking on his shoulder. He turned around, and there he was. Cas, who he had tried desperately to avoid, who he most certainly did not want to spend any time with, who he definitely could not be associated with. Just smiling a stupid grin at him.

”Do you want to write off mine?” he whispered.

Dean flinched. He didn't know what angered him most, that Cas could potenitally be flirting with him and assuming he was like that, that Cas thought he was too dumb to do the test on his own, or that Cas thought he cared about the test at all.

”Why the fuck would I need your help?” Dean said, before he could even think to lower his voice to a whisper.

Before he could think about anything at all really, he just blurted it out. Desperately and angrily, as soon as it popped into his head. Because he did not need Cas' help, he did not need Cas _at all._ He didn't need anyone, he was perfectly fine on his own.

Cas's face just turned blank, the smug grin dropped. Dean thought it served him right, assuming all those things. But it still felt a bit strange, to see him like that. It still made him feel a bit funny.

He decided to try even harder to stay away from him, make it even clearer that he was not up for it. How Cas had not picked up on that yet was for him a mystery, but he supposed that sort could be like that. Persistent.

Dean returned to drumming his pen against the table to demonstrate how much he didn't care, even louder this time. He hoped Cas wasn't looking at him from behind, but stared straight ahead to not encourage him if he was.

***

Another day Dean had a black eye. Admittedly a small one, but still, a black eye. One doesn't just get them out of nowhere or by accidentally hitting themselves on the face.

Cas had intended to ignore it. Dean clearly didn't want anything to do with him, and quite honestly Cas didn't want anything to do with him either. Why should he care one bit about how Dean had gotten a black eye, when he had been so rude to him? Why could Dean possibly deserve his attention and concern? Cas wouldn't say anything about it.

Except. Except that black eye made him look so small and so much like the old Dean. Except it probably hurt a great deal and no one seemed to pay any attention to it. Except he could probably want to talk to someone as his friends weren't really that type. Except he had gotten it in some way, it hadn't just appeared while he slept. Except Cas cared more about how that had happened than he would admit to himself, and it stung his heart to think about it.

Dean strutted around like he didn't care, as if it wasn't even there at all. But Cas found himself more and more unable to ignore it. Everywhere he looked there was Dean, and there was his black eye. He turned around and it was staring right at his face, wondering why he didn't do anything. Making him feel like a heartless coward. Asking for his help, asking him why he didn't give it to him.

A black eye can mean all sorts of things. It could be completely innocent, completely harmless. And it could be horrible and awful and he could need comfort, comfort Cas could not be sure someone else would give him.

Sometimes he had wished someone had paid more attention to his black eyes, insisted on getting an answer and refused to believe his lies. What if Dean was hoping the same thing?

***

He was not. Dean was hoping no one would mention his black eye at all, that no one would even notice it. He had no interest in having to come up with an excuse, an explanation, a lie. Maybe they would see straight through it, maybe they would know. He couldn't have that. He couldn't even imagine the consequences of that.

But suddenly Castiel was there. Staring at him as if he was looking right through him and already knew the answer.

”How'd you get that black eye?” he asked.

He had stopped Dean in the middle of the hall, caught him him off guard without any way to come up with an answer or anything good to reply. It was on him, really, it was his own fault. He had practially ambushed Dean, he would have to make do with whatever first popped into his head.

”What the hell does that concern you?!” he shouted.

Cas flinched, a reflex, a trained reaction. Expecting a punch, but still surprised. Dean could not feel sorry for him, he should never have expected anything but that.

”Sorry”, Cas said.

For a moment he looked up at him in silence, and Dean could feel all the anger and rage disappear, as if he did not have enough room to contain it all. As if there was no point in doing it.

”Does it hurt?” Cas asked.

Dean almost wanted to tell him, when he looked at him with those blue eyes. There was no curiosity in them, there was no pity, there were no hidden intentions. He just cared, for some odd reason. Just wanted to know how he was. Dean was not used to having people caring about him in that way, and it felt good at the same time as he had no idea how to react to it. Castiel looked so concerned and would actually listen to him, and Dean was about to open his mouth and tell him.

But then he remembered. That they were not alone in their own universe, that there were people around them. He became aware that Michael, Gadreel and Raphael were right behind him, seeing and hearing everything. He turned his head and looked at them, and they were staring at him. They were judging him, he knew it. They were assuming things, skipping to conclusions. He couldn't have that.

Dean could see his life out the window, could see them laughing at him, people whispering behind his back in the school corridors, his father finding out. It was not a worst case scenario, it was exactly what would happen.

He looked at Cas again. He felt no anger or hate towards him, was not offended or disgusted. Just very, very scared.

”Back off”, he said. ”I'm not into that, you fucking pansy.”

Cas just stared at him, trying to psych him into feeling guilty. Dean turned around and walked away from there quickly, fearing that it might work.

 _Can't he take a hint?_ he thought. _What do I have to do to get rid of him?_

***

Cas stood there, too afraid to look around and see everyone pitying him and feeling bad for him. He felt embarrassed and he felt humiliated, and he missed Dean. The Dean he had known, who had been his very best friend and who never would have said anything like that. The Dean he might have been waiting for all that time, for 13 years.

For a while he had thought it would have ended differently, because Dean had looked so kind. There had been nothing bad in his eyes, there had been no macho, tough guy facade. Cas had thought he would reply and that everything would be okay.

He felt empty, very tired and drained. And time passed, days, weeks, months. And it was not okay.

 


	6. Exactly where you'd like me

Right when Dean stepped in the door he knew something was wrong. He could feel it in the air, smell it actually. Through all the alcohol, cologne.

John sat on the couch in the livingroom and stared straight ahead, shaved, dressed in a suit and drenched in the smell.

”Where have you been?” he asked.

”Where are you going?” Dean countered.

His father gave him a look of disapproval.

”Dinner across the street.”

”Have fun.”

”Would be funnier if we weren't late.”

Dean scoffed.

”I'm not going”, he said.

”You are”, John replied. ”And you're going to act your best, alright?”

Dean knew better than to protest again and settled for a loud sigh.

”But I'm not changing my clothes”, he muttered.

***

”Who's coming over?” Cas asked as he set the table and discovered two extra plates.

It was not a surprise though, because around the holidays there were always people eating at their place. He expected it to be just another aunt or uncle, maybe grandparents if he was unlucky.

”Oh, it's the Winchesters”, his mother replied from the kitchen.

Cas froze. That was not going to be a nice evening. He could deal with Dean at school, not only because he ignored him, he could handle the things he said too. But not in front of his parents. They would overreact. Cas knew his dad would throw a fit and start shouting, and his mother would would stroke him over the hair and call him ”honey” with tears in her voice. He didn't trust Dean, and he had thought he would be free from all that over the break.

”Mom”, he said.

She poked her head out the door between the kitchen and the dining room, and suddenly her husband was leaning against the doorway from the hall. Castiel could not decide which one of them to look at.

”There's something I should tell you”, he said, while spinning around a plate without making any real difference. Then he lowered his voice and spoke faster. ”Dean's pretty homophobic.”

”Why didn't you tell us?” his dad asked before a second had passed.

Cas shrugged his shoulders.

”Dunno, didn't think it mattered, didn't think you'd invite him over to dinner.”

”Does he bully you?” his mom asked.

Cas shook his head.

”No, he just pretty much stays clear of me.”

”We can't cancel now”, his dad said. ”But his father will be here.”

”It will be alright”, his mom assured him while giving him a concerned look.

Cas felt a lump forming in his throat and anxiety build up inside him.

”Yeah”, he agreed.

But he was not convinced.

***

Castiel's parents were loud, warm and expressive, at times even overwhelming.

 _Definitely not the type you'd expect to name their kid Castiel,_ Dean thought.

It was a nice house as well, not at all like his. There was almost too much furniture, every flat surface was covered with stuff, pictures, paintings and ornaments decorated the walls and the many rugs appeared to have been placed on the floor randomly. It was not white, bright and empty, it was colorful, a bit dark and almost cramped. That house had not been planned, it had been filled with things as years had gone by, it had not been decorated by a professional but by the people who lived in it. It would not be featured in any magazines, but it was a nice house nevertheless, especially for Dean.

That was what he focused on for most of the dinner, the house, not the people. He ate as quickly as he could, hoping he would be able to get away when he was done. When it came to it he never would, he wouldn't go against his father's orders in someone else's house.

Most of the talking was done by Castiel's parents, who chatted with each other and John Winchester about everything they possibly could come up with, but never his wife or other son. John was quieter, but still polite, talkative and quick to laugh at the jokes. Dean shifted between being happy that he was, and being angry at the Novaks for not seeing through all his lies.

Dean only spoke when he was asked a question – of which there were many – and his replies were short – yes, school was alright, he fitted in good, he was happy to be back, no, he did not miss his last place and did not have a girlfriend – and to the point. He wasn't quite sure what John deemed good behavior, and worried about doing something wrong.

Castiel talked just as little a he did, if not even less. He would smile when one of his parents looked his way but stare down at his plate the rest of the time. Dean thought he looked strange like that. He looked small, fragile and weak. Maybe that was how he had been back when they had known each other, but Dean could not remember.

But despite all of that, he would deem the evening a success. There was no wine for his father to drink, there was no one asking him how his grades were, and there was no one there to look at him and wonder what he was doing with Cas. Dean liked the house and he would be damned if he didn't like the people too. He was content sitting there after finishing his second helping, hearing all the talk and laughter and looking at all the signs of life that was all around him. He pretended that it was his house and his family, and that it was John and his son Castiel that were visiting them. He knew it wasn't that way, but he could pretend. He wished he would never have to leave and return to his own house and own life, where he had spent Christmas in his room and not gotten any presents.

But then it came.

”Why don't you boys head to Cas' room and leave us grown ups to it?” John suggested.

Everyone around the table froze. Castiel looked horrified, and his parents gave each other worried looks. Dean didn't want to do that, but he couldn't protest when he was in someone else's house, not with his father there.

”If it's fine with him”, he said.

He stared at Cas, who stared right back at him. Dean had not meant it as a challenge, but he could see that Cas was taking it as one.

 _You don't think it is?_ his eyes said.

 _Please don't,_ Dean tried to signal with his own.

”Of course it is”, Cas said, a weak smile forming on his lips.

***

Dean lingered awkwardly in the doorway as Cas desperately tried to pick up some stuff and give at least an illusion of order in the chaos that was his room. He found that his hands were shaking a little, and he thought that if he opened his mouth and tried to speak then no words would come out, only strange noises, gibberish, utter nonsense. He signed for Dean to step in, and he did.

”Pretty nice”, he said, not quite a whisper but almost.

That was not what Cas had expected.

”Thanks”, he muttered and leaned against the desk.

Dean took a few steps into the room, turned around slowly and then stood still for a little while. He looked at absolutely everything in a way Cas had not expected him to. People would not often stare and examine every piece of his room, they would soak it all in with the same gaze and be done with it. But not Dean. His gaze stopped at everything and stayed there for several seconds before he let it continue on to the next object as he did them all after each other. But despite that he did not seem to react to anything, didn't even hum or nod his head, and Cas found the lack of comments a bit unnerving.

But then Dean stared a little longer at the signed football on the nightstand, and his mouth was opened a little before he started speaking, as if he had done it before he had made up his mind what to say.

”Tom Brady?” he asked.

Cas nodded.

”Have you met him?”

”No, my dad bought it online”, Cas replied and gave him a smile. ”D'you know who it is?”

Dean looked back at him quickly and gave him an awkward smile in return.

”No”, he said. ”I just figured it would be impressive if he's important enough to be signing things.”

Cas laughed, but Dean sticked to his smile and looked away again.

”He's a football player”, Cas said. ”Pretty famous.”

Dean nodded and moved his hands a bit, but stayed put and looked unsure of what to do. Cas didn't know what he expected. He was not afraid of him, for some strange reason, but he was still shocked when Dean all of a sudden make his way to the bed and abruptly sit right down on it.

”It's nice”, he repeated. ”I don't have much stuff in my room.”

”Because you just moved in?” Cas asked.

Dean looked ready to open his mouth and say something, but settled for nodding.

”But I don't think I'll ever have a football signed by Tom Brady”, he said and smiled a strained smile. ”Or that many pens.”

Cas looked down on his desk, he didn't think he had many pens. Just around five, but that wasn't out of the ordinary, was it? Plenty of people have much more pens, and he was a high school student.

”They're for homework and stuff”, he explained and looked back at Dean.

He looked up at the roof as if expecting to find something more interesting up there. It was getting increasingly harder to make eye contact with him, Cas noted.

”I don't do much of those”, Dean said.

”You don't say.”

Dean chuckled. Cas could not wrap his head around how different he was, how he moved, talked and looked differently from in school. There was nothing intimidating about him, nothing that made Cas feel awkward or worried or think through everything before saying it out loud.

”What was it that happened to Sammy?” he asked.

Then Dean became stiff, and Cas knew he had messed up. Dean bowed his head down and stared decidedly at the floor.

”He had a brain injury since the crash”, he said, not mumbling or stuttering. It was actually too loud and too clear, and there were no emotions left in his voice. ”He couldn't talk, and it was never quite clear what he could see or hear. His immune system was weakened too, and he had nearly no resistance against diseases and stuff.”

Cas found it strange to think about baby Sammy like that, and couldn't imagine how it must have been for Dean and his father.

”He got pneumonia”, Dean continued. ”Around six months ago. It was too much, he died.”

”I'm sorry”, Cas said.

And he was, because Sammy had been thirteen years old and never spoken a word, he had been thirteen years old and he had died.

Dean lifted up his hands as if intending to wipe away invisible tears from his face, but stopped midway through the motion and stood up instead.

”I should go”, he said.

Cas was about to protest, but his mouth wouldn't open in time. Dean stormed out the room and Cas could hear the door slam shut as he left the house too. Below the stairs John's voice suddenly boomed.

”Did Dean just go?”

Cas heard him hurry after his son, as he thought about Tom Brady, Sammy, and Dean, and that maybe the Dean that had just been in his room was the real one, and the one he met in school was fake.

 


	7. If I retreat

Dean didn't know why he did it. He didn't even smoke. Not because it was so dangerous and he was a chicken, not because he didn't like the taste or couldn't stand the smoke. It was just because he had no reasons, because there was nothing he possibly could get out of it, because it would just be a waste of time and money. He had smoked, of course he had. He didn't really mind it, it was pretty okay, but definitely not worth it. He just didn't smoke.

So he didn't know why he did it. It was not because of peer pressure either, not because they told him to. He didn't do stuff just because they said so, of course not. He could say no, he wasn't scared of them or anything.

He didn't know why he did it, he just did. Just reached out his hand, snatched the pack of cigarettes from the shelf, put it in his pocket and walked right out of there. The others chuckled, someone patted him on the back. That didn't mean anything. He hadn't been nervous or worried, it hadn't been a thrill at all. He felt completely indifferent to the fact that he had just stolen something, and not only something, but cigarettes. He had just done it, and then he had walked home and not thought any more about it.

He hadn't expected it to lead anywhere, he hadn't expected there to be any consequences, and he certainly hadn't expected to get caught. Days had passed and Dean had almost forgotten about it. His father hadn't had any reason to be snooping around in his jacket pockets, he wasn't supposed to ever have found them. But he did. And when Dean came down the staircase that day, he was standing right there in the hall, waiting with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. And all Dean could think was _shit._

***

Gabriel had called, ”just to see how you're doing”. Cas had been doing fine, and he had said just that, before spending the next hour on his phone, waiting for a text he was very aware probably would not come.

”You are such an idiot”, he told himself as he lied there.

He looked at the football signed by Tom Brady and thought about how Dean had smiled and said ”I just figured it would be impressive”, as if he actually cared about what Cas had in his room, as if he actually cared about Cas. And more than ever, he was convinced that that was a completely different Dean from the one he went to school with. That was not the Dean that would be sitting behind him in class when the holidays were over, that was the Dean he had been friends with, the Dean who had eaten a worm and almost vomited, the Dean that had lost his mother when he was four and his brother when he was 17. Was it really so bad if he liked that Dean, would it really be the end of the world? Because that was the real one, Cas was more sure of that than he had ever been about anything.

What was he to do with that information though? That Cas was not as sure about. Because neither of the two Deans wanted to be anywhere near him, and he could accept that. He should just leave him alone, and he knew that. So why couldn't he? Why did it feel like the hardest thing he had ever done?

Cas grunted and checked his phone again, in case he had missed the sound of a text. He hadn't, and grunted even louder. But for a second he stopped feeling helpless and sad, and was angry instead. So angry in fact, that he threw his phone at the wall and heard it crack before it slid down under his bed.

”Shit!” he exclaimed, as he considered banging his head against the wall over being so dumb but decided against it.

Instead he rolled off the bed, reached his arm under it and felt around for his phone. Suddenly he found something entirely different. That was weird, he had cleaned under there just a few days earlier. He grasped his hand around whatever it was and pulled it out.

It was an amulet, attached to a black thread that served as a necklace. It was a golden face, wearing what appeared to be a horned hat or helmet. It was not his, but he knew instantly who it belonged to.

***

They stared at each other in silence, neither of them wanting to be the one to break the silence. Dean knew he was in trouble, he knew it was bad, perhaps even worse than ever before.

In that moment, he was afraid, there was no denying it. He was scared, he was terrified. Not because he was a big baby, not because he got scared easily, but because he knew he had reason to. Because he knew that if he wasn't scared, then he would be the dumbest person on the planet.

He opened his mouth to say something, but what? He had no explanations or excuses, nothing. He hoped the words would just come out by themselves, but they didn't. He was quiet, and closed his mouth again.

”Do you see what this is?” his father asked.

His voice was not loud yet, it was not angry or even disappointed. It was still neutral, but Dean knew it wouldn't be for long.

He tried to open his mouth again and force out a yes, but it didn't obey him. All he could do was nod his head.

”Can you tell me what it is?”

Then it started to show, the anger that was hidden within him. Dean could hear it in his voice, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to get out of the situation, that he had nothing left to lose.

”Can't you?” he asked, expecting his voice to shiver and break, which it did not do. ”Do you need glasses or something?”

John did not smile, his lips did not even twitch. He stared at his son, and Dean stared right back at him. His legs were suddenly weaker and his hands were shaking slightly.

”It's a pack of cigarettes”, he said.

”It is”, his father agreed. ”Do you know where I found it?”

Dean wasn't being rebellious anymore, he was grasping at straws and hoping with all of his life that it was all a test.

”The gas station?” he suggested.

For that brief second before John replied, Dean could see in his eyes that it wasn't so.

”I found it in your pockets.”

And Dean nodded in acceptance.

”Do you mind explaining how it got there?”

Dean did mind, because he couldn't make a sound come out his mouth. He knew it wouldn't matter what he would say.

”Is it a fake ID?” John asked. ”Or did you get someone else to buy them out for you?”

”You smoke”, Dean whispered.

”What?”

”You smoke”, Dean repeated a bit louder while lowering his eyes. ”You can't be mad at me for doing something you do yourself.”

John snorted.

”You bet I can”, he said, raising his voice at last. ”You bet I can! 'Cause I'm your fucking father, and I don't break the law to get my cigarettes!”

Dean looked up at him and clenched his fists. His father was gone from that man's eyes, there was only rage left.

”It's a friends!” he shouted, in a final desperate attempt to get out that he knew would fail.

”Do you expect me to believe that?!”

He didn't, but there was nothing else he could do at that point.

”They're not even mine!” he claimed again.

John closed his hand around the pack of cigarettes. His breath smelled of alcohol and his breathing was getting more strained. Dean knew it was over and that he was done for. He was convinced that he would die, among all the beer bottles and right in front of the two pictures on the hutch. From one his mother was smiling at him, and in the other baby Sammy stared at him with big, happy eyes.

 _I might be coming sooner than expected,_ Dean thought as he closed his eyes and prepared himself for what would come next.

***

He looked twice before he crossed the road, because he always did. It was cold and he regretted not bringing a jacket, as he wrapped his arms around himself and took long steps.

As he reached the door he stopped and wondered whether forcing himself into Dean's home was the good idea he had thought it was when he had decided to do it, in the comfort of his room and with a phone that made it impossible to call him. But Cas opened his hand and looked down at the amulet, and had no doubt that the right Dean would be the one to open the door for him.

Suddenly he heard angry voices behind the door, someone was shouting. It unnerved him, and he knocked on the door without thinking about it twice. The angry voices quieted, but there were no footsteps either and no one opened the door. Cas knocked again.

Sudden, fast steps made their way to the door and it flung open. It was the right Dean, the one that had been his friend, with a surprised look on his face.

”Hi”, Cas said. ”You forgot this in my room the other day.”

He reached his hand towards him to reveal the amulet on the necklace. Dean stared down at it in schock but made no sign of actually moving and taking it.

John was a few feet behind him, red in the face and dark in the eyes. He stared at Cas and couldn't even bring himself to smile.

”Good afternoon, Mr. Winchester.”

”Hello, Castiel.”

Cas gave him a smile and still expected to get one in return, but John did not move.

”Thank you”, Dean whispered.

As he took the necklace their hands touched, and even though Cas knew he wasn't supposed to he felt very strange when they did. He lost his breath for half a second, and looked at Dean to see if it had happened to him too. It hadn't. Dean looked just the same, but for the first time Cas saw that there was something off about him. He looked so small and very fragile, as he stared back at Cas with something strange in his eyes and clenched his hand around the amulet. Cas didn't know if he could ask, so he didn't.

”No problem.”

A low but sudden noise behind Dean made him turn around quicker than Cas ever had seen anyone do. He looked where Dean looked, and they both saw as John bent down and picked up a pack of cigarettes from the floor.

Dean looked back at Cas with terror in his eyes and a mouth that was open and ready with an explanation, and when he connected it to the fast way he had opened the door and John's face, Cas knew exactly what was going on.

”Oh, are those mine?” he asked loudly without even giving himself the time to think it through.

Dean stared at him in shock.

”Yes”, he mumbled. ”They're yours.”

John looked at the cigarettes, then at Cas.

”Thanks for looking after them”, he said to Dean as he looked back at him. ”I was wondering where they had ended up.”

”I'm sorry”, John said and forced out a small smile. ”I assumed they were Dean's.”

”Are you kidding me? Dean won't even go near me when I smoke, with all his 'passive smoking kills' and shit.”

Cas looked at Dean, who managed to call forth some fake laughter.

”Do you mind?”

Cas reached up a hand that John tossed the cigarettes over to.

”Thanks.”

John smiled again, before disappearing from the hall into a room behind it. Dean looked at Cas as if he still couldn't believe his luck.

”Thank you”, he said.

”Don't worry about it”, Cas replied. ”But it does kill, you know that, right?”

Dean chuckled.

”I don't smoke.”

”I'm not even gonna ask.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, Dean avoided meeting Cas' eyes and focused his attention to the amulet in his hand.

”I bought this for Sammy”, he said after a while. ”Dad thought it was too tacky for him to be buried in.”

”I think it's nice.”

Cas managed to make eye contact with him for just a second, and his smile was the most genuine one he had seen on his face in 13 years.

”Thank you”, he whispered.

The door closed, and Cas was left to remember that he was cold, and wonder about what to do with the pack of cigarettes he suddenly had in his possession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go!


	8. The deeper that I go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry. I've been preoccupied with other writing, but I hope to update more frequently now, at least every weekend.

If Dean noticed that Castiel seemed uncharacteristically distraught on the first day of the spring term, then it was because anyone would have seen it. Because it was so obvious. Because no one could have avoided noticing it.

It was not because Dean had been thinking about him for days, and definitely not because he was the first person he looked for when he got to school that day.

No, it was definitely not because of any of that. Even though it was exactly what he had done.

***

Was it good that Gabriel had gotten a stomach bug over the holidays and missed the first school day? Cas thought it was, because his father had been able to drive him to school so it didn't really matter. It was good that he wasn't there, because if he had been then he would have seen that it was a bad day, and he would have asked questions about it and the day would have gotten even worse.

It was good, until Castiel got held up by the teacher after his last class and everyone he had planned to ask for a ride was gone, and he stood without any chance of getting home.

”Shit.”

He said it out loud to no one in particular as no one was there, before he made his way towards the parking lot, hoping to find a solution there.

What he found there was a guy, and one that could certainly be a solution. Suddenly Cas was even happier that Gabriel wasn't there.

”What are you doing here?” he asked as his lips started to form into a smile he hadn't planned.

”Why, are you angry at me?”

He smirked where he stood leaned against his car, Cas scoffed.

”You don't think I have reasons?”

He was more amused than upset though.

”I suppose you do. Sorry.”

”It's fine.”

Cas shrugged his shoulders.

”Do you want a ride?”

”Yeah, sure.”

He looked so ridicilously happy then, and Cas knew why he loved him. He couldn't help it.

”I've missed you”, he said.

”I've missed you too.”

Cas had to do it then, had to reach out to grab his arm. Maybe he didn't want to do more than that, maybe he just needed to touch him to confirm that he was actually there.

Maybe he shouldn't have done it.

***

It was strange, how fast the school became empty when the day was over. How one second the corridors were overflowing with people, and the next Dean could have walked through it naked and no one would have been there to see. Not that he ever planned to do that, it was just an observation.

He hadn't ever been there that long after his last class, had never seen it before. But of course, when he first did it was not because he had stayed there voluntarily, but because he had detention. He couldn't remember why, maybe it was just because the teacher didn't like him. Maybe he wasn't ”trying hard enough”. He didn't mind detentions too much though, it meant he could stay away from home a little longer without having to come up with any plans himself.

He walked the ghostly corridors slowly, lingering there for as long as he could. He wasn't in a hurry.

At first glance the parking lot seemed just as empty, until he registered movements by one car. From the distance he couldn't see who they were or what they were doing, only that there appeared to be two people very close, pressed towards a car. Which was perfect, really. Teenagers making out in public, just what Dean had hoped to see. He sighed, because he would have to walk past them to get to the Impala.

The first thing that hit him was the sound. One of the figures by the car was loud, angry and shouting. Dean frowned. As he came even closer, he saw that they were most definitely not making out. There were two guys, and one was shaking a fist at the other one while banging him against the car with his other one. That would not have been so alarming to Dean, if it had been anyone but Castiel. Who it just so happened to be. Which made it even worse than two teenagers making out.

”Hey!” he shouted.

They didn't hear him, so he started to jog a bit. Why wasn't Cas doing anything, why wasn't he defending himself? Why was he just hanging around like a puppet, when he was a fucking football player? If he could just defend himself, it would be all so much easier for Dean. But he didn't, he just stood there without saying or doing anything, and Dean would have to do something.

”You fucking _faggot_!” the guy shouted at Cas.

” _Hey_!” Dean repeated.

They both turned to look at him, Cas looked horrified and embarrassed and the other guy just angry.

”What the fuck are you doing?” Dean asked as he stopped a few feet away from them.

”What the fuck are _you_ doing?” the other guy parroted.

He was so fuming with rage, so completely consumed by it, that Dean hadn't expected him to respond at all. He hadn't seen anyone like that before, no one except his father.

”Noam”, Castiel mumbled under his breath.

As he gave him a look, the guy apparently named Noam let go off him and took a step back.

”Do you know this guy?” Dean asked.

Cas looked at him, bit his lip and nodded silently.

”Shut up!” Noam shouted. ”You don't fucking know me!”

Cas flinched as he grabbed his jacket again, and it was too much for Dean to be able to stand.

”Back off!” he commanded.

Noam looked at him. Maybe he decided that he wasn't worth it, maybe he suspected that Dean was the sort to wear knives to school and stab people with them when needed. He let go off Castiel again, but took a step towards him and gave him a threatening glare.

”Move over”, he spat.

Cas didn't look close to tears or about to start shaking, just bent down to pick up his schoolbag from the ground and did as Noam had told him with his head held low and his eyes on the ground.

Noam walked fast, got in the car, slammed the door shut and avoided looking at either of them as he drove away from there quickly.

”Holy shit”, Dean said.

There appeared to be no other words. Cas squeezed his bag and watched the car disappear from the parking lot and out of their sight.

”Are you alright?” Dean asked.

Cas turned towards him, and just nodded silently. He looked small, fragile and in need of protection. That's what he must have been like when Dean had known him, when he had decided that he was his best friend.

”Come on”, Dean said. ”I'll drive you home.”

***

”He was my boyfriend”, Cas said when they had made it almost the entire way home without talking at all. ”I mean, I think so at least, that's what I'd call it.”

”Hm”, said Dean.

”Last year after I had come out I got jumped by some guys”, Cas continued. ”I didn't know them, they had just heard about me, but they were drunk and I just happened to walk by at the wrong time. That's how I hurt my knee, it's been acting up ever since. Don't know if it will ever be alright.”

He tapped with his hand against it, because he had to do something with his hands and didn't know what other options he had.

”Afterwards, one of the guys came by here at school. He said he was sorry and he hadn't been very active, so I sorta figured that, you know, trouble at home, peer pressure, alcohol, bad decisions. We started hanging out. Secretly, but that was of course only because my parents wouldn't approve after what he'd done. Then we started doing more than hanging out. I don't even know how it happened, it just sorta did.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter.

”But he was in denial, couldn't accept what he was. That was fine, I figured it would come eventually. Then he started blaming me, he always got angry with me, said things he regretted later, things that weren't so nice. But I loved him, what can you do?”

It was easier than he had thought it would be to explain it to Dean, as if he hadn't moved away 13 years earlier, as if they were still best friends and had known each other all that time.

”I still loved him when he hit me”, he said. ”I don't think it goes away just like that, I think it takes a while and never really disappears completely.”

He looked at Dean, who had his eyes fixed on the road and would have looked as if he hadn't heard any of it if he hadn't clenched his jaw so terribly.

”Gabriel found out first, of course. We were at his house, fighting about the remote control, full on wrestling. My shirt kinda slid up a bit and he saw this huge bruise and just, 'where did this come from?'” Cas smiled as he imitated his voice, but it was a smile that faded away quickly. ”I started crying and couldn't stop, and then I had to tell him. He told my parents even when I begged him not to, and they talked to his parents, forbade me from seeing him and made me see a therapist.”

He nodded to himself, then bit his lip.

”I saw him a couple times this year, he hasn't done anything. He's been so nice, just like before, and I suppose I thought it could go back to normal.”

”You shouldn't do that”, Dean said under his breath.

Cas was a bit surprised to finally hear him say something.

”You must think I'm so stupid”, he scoffed. ”I mean, I know I am, but...”

He sighs, because he didn't know what would come after that 'but'.

”That amulet”, Dean said. ”I got that for Sammy many years ago. It was back when they still thought they could fix him, at least a little bit, and he was going to have some surgery. I was in the hospital, going in the elevator by myself because dad was already up there, and I saw it hanging out from a woman's handbag. It can't have been expensive, I wouldn't have been able to tell either because I was a kid. But I knew, I just knew, that it would fix him, that it would make everything okay.”

He laughed.

”I mean, obviously that didn't work. But I didn't drop it at your place, I left it there.”

”I did wonder how you managed to drop it under the bed”, Cas laughed.

”I kicked it under there, but I was very discreet, wasn't I? You didn't see a thing!”

”No, I didn't.”

Dean grinned complacently.

”I just thought you needed it”, he said then, dropping his voice as he did so. ”So, if someone here is stupid...”

That was him, that was the Dean Cas had known, the Dean that had been his best friend. The Dean he had decided to marry, aged four and barely fourty inches high.

”You gave me a stolen good luck charm that doesn't work.”

”And you gave it back.”

Cas hadn't even noticed that they were on the Winchester's driveway, until Dean turned off the car and turned to face him.

”Hold on a sec”, Cas said, as he started rooting around for something in his schoolbag.

Dean watched him with a confused look on his face, as he suddenly pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

”I didn't know what to do with it”, he said.

For a second they were quiet, then they both broke out laughing hysterically.

 


	9. Ice has melted back to life

There was snow on the ground, and Dean would have brought a jacket. If he had been silly, that is. If they hadn't been absolutely ridicilous and he hadn't been perfectly fine with the cold.

Castiel had brought a jacket though, he was wearing that, a hat and gloves. He wasn't silly and didn't look ridicilous, he just didn't care. He was cold and that was fine, and Dean almost changed his mind. But it would be even worse if he ran back for a jacket then, as if he was old with a bad memory.

”Are you sure they're not home?” he asked.

”Of course I am”, Cas frowned. ”They won't be back for hours.”

Would it matter if they were home? They were in the back yard after all, but there was always a chance they could look out the window, and maybe they would decide to tell John. But they wouldn't, because they weren't home.

”Are you ready?” Cas asked with a silly grin on his face.

”I've been waiting for this moment all my life”, Dean replied with a smirk, as he placed his hands in his pockets.

Because he was a bit cold, and more than a little nervous.

”Alright”, Cas said.

He started fumbling with the box, and while doing so he pursed his lips, gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes. Dean scoffed, both at him and the ridicilous thought that had just crossed his mind.

_Wonder if that's what he looks like during-_

”Do you need help?”

Cas shook his head and sighed.

”It's fucking impenetrable.”

He froze for a second, and raised his head at Dean.

”That means-”

”I know what it means.”

He didn't, but suddenly the plastic was off, and the small box was open.

”Aha!”

Cas pulled up a cigarette and reached it towards Dean. He hesitated before he took it, knowing with every fibre of his being that it was wrong and could have terrible consequences.

”Who'd think you'd be the one to chicken out?” Cas chuckled.

”I'm not!” Dean sneered.

He took the cigarette carefully, making sure not to accidentally touch Castiel's hand while doing it. It felt strange, and he didn't know quite how to hold it. He just stared at it, where it lay in his open palm.

”You brought a lighter, didn't you?”

”'course I did”, Dean muttered.

It was in his pocket, and felt very heavy. He had knicked it from his father and would have to return it before he came home, but he forced himself to bring it up.

”Light me up”, Cas cooed.

He held a cigarette between his fingers as if he had never done anything else, but the expectant, excited look on his face gave him away. Dean's hand shook a bit as he lit it, but Cas did not appear to have noticed.

He took an urbane puff of his cigarette and breathed out smoke at Dean's face. It stank and he wrinkled his nose.

”How does it taste?”

”Like cancer.”

Cas grinned on the other side of his cloud of smoke.

”You're not such a badass as everyone thinks, are you?” he teased.

”Depends on how badass they think I am”, Dean mumbled.

Cas nodded in agreement.

”Some do think it's all just for show.”

He took another puff as Dean lit his own cigarette, and when he pursed his lips around it he blew out even more smoke.

”Big breaths”, he instructed, as if it wasn't his first time too.

Dean still took a big breath.

***

Dean started coughing immediately, there was desperation in it and panic in his eyes.

”I told you to take big breaths!”

Cas couldn't help but laugh at him, who walked the corridors at school as if he owned them and parted all the students around him like Moses and the ocean, but couldn't even smoke.

”I did!” he screamed.

His voice was hoarse and sounded more like it belonged to a robot. The coughing continued.

”That was not what I expected!” he pressed out. ”My throat is burning!”

Cas only smiled at him and took another puff, carefully ignoring his own need to do the same.

”How the hell are you doing this?”

”I'm suffering in silence. It's awful.”

”I'm gonna throw up, fuck!”

”Please don't, I don't want to have to explain that.”

 _How dreadfully happy I am,_ Cas thought. _How surprisingly good this feels._

”Take another one”, he said. ”It gets better, I promise.”

Dean gave him a suspicious look, but did it either way. It was an even deeper breath, a very long one. He did not cough, not until after he had exhaled again and the smoke came out through his mouth and nose. But it was not as much as the first time.

”See, you're learning.”

”Don't think I want to learn.”

”No, me neither”, Cas chuckled. ”I think this once is enough.”

It started getting easier with every puff, he was able to breathe again and the taste didn't bother him as much. He supposed he could get used to it, if he wanted to. If it meant he could be standing behind his house with Dean more often. That would only be an excuse though, because he didn't really need a reason to do it.

”You know”, he said. ”This was how it was supposed to be. Me and you, hiding in the back yard, smoking our first cigarettes.”

”Peeking through stolen porn magazines”, Dean shook his head and smirked.

”Wondering what the hell the big deal is and what I'm supposed to feel about the big rubber balls on their chests.”

In an instant Dean's smile became strained and left his eyes. Cas didn't know if it was because it hadn't been that way, or because of how his sexuality had come up in the conversation. But he didn't worry, wasn't scared that Dean would suddenly turn hostile. Not that Dean, his friend.

”Yeah”, he said and nodded his head. ”That was just how it was supposed to be.”

With his thoughts elsewhere, Dean brought his cigarette back to his mouth and took another puff. As if he had forgotten the taste he started coughing again.

”Definitely cancer”, he confirmed.

”I'm sorry about Sammy”, Cas said. He had been planning to bring it up all along, but never managed to find the right moment. A better one wouldn't come. ”And your mom. It was awful, I can't even imagine how it must have been for you and John.”

Dean clenched his jaw, stared down at the ground and moved his foot around a bit.

”Yeah”, he whispered. ”It was pretty rough.”

”He was supposed to be here too”, Cas continued. ”We were supposed to shout at him to run away, and he would run to your parents and tattle on us.”

Dean nodded, and they were silent. In that moment, Castiel knew he would have been able to reach out and touch him and it wouldn't matter one bit.

”I suppose nothing ever turns out the way it's supposed to”, he said, and gave him a smile he hoped was reassuring but Dean probably didn't see, as focused on the snow beneath his feet as he was.

”Like Noam”, he said.

”Like Noam”, Cas confirmed.

”Are we very pathetic?” Dean asked as he looked up again.

Their eyes met. Dean's were all shades of green at once, and Cas found them more beautiful than he should have. He wondered if Dean thought the same, but there was nothing in his face to give him any clues.

”Oh yes”, Cas said. ”Definitely. The most pathetic.”

***

Dean smirked.

”Thought so.”

What he felt in his stomach was very strange and very bad, but it didn't have to be because of Cas, it couldn't be because of Cas. It was the cigarettes. Most definitely. Probably.

”Where are you applying for college?” he suddenly asked.

For a second Cas furrowed a brow in confusion.

”Don't quite know yet. A bunch of places, I suppose. I don't really like making decisions, and it seems a terribly big one.”

He grimaced and took another puff.

”How about you?”

That was a big question, a difficult question. Dean had known it would come, and it was sort of the reason he had brought up the subject in the first place. But when it did, he suddenly became very unsure about what to say.

”Don't know”, he whispered. ”Don't think I've got much choice in the matter.”

He tried to distract himself with the cigarette, but it only caused him to cough even more.

”You know”, Castiel smirked, ”a pen or two might help. I've got lots, as you so kindly pointed out.”

Dean laughed and almost forgot, because it was so suprising to him that Cas could actually make him feel better.

”If I decided to get a pen or two”, he said. ”If I decided to actually try, would you help me?”

Cas didn't look confused and didn't laugh at him, it was as if he didn't find it ridicilous or impossible at all.

”Do you want to?” he just asked.

Dean nodded and lowered his eyes.

”I think so. I mean, I've sorta started thinking about the future and I just... I'd like to make something of myself, live a normal life. Do you think I could?”

He peeked back up at Cas, once again expecting there to be an amused grin on his face, only to find him looking deep in thought and staring right at him, as if right through him, right into his soul. And he strange thing was, Dean didn't even mind.

”Maybe it's a little late”, he suggested.

”Yes, of course”, Dean nodded his head again. ”I know that, of course, I just-”

He couldn't decide what else to say, and instead dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped on it with his right foot. Not because he was done with it or couldn't take any more (because of course he could) but because it was the only thing he could think to do.

”I don't mean that you couldn't do it”, Cas said. ”Better yourself, I mean. I bet you could, but I'm not sure how much it could get you. To get a few good grades just before sending the applications.”

”Does that mean you won't help me?”

He looked offended by the very idea.

”Of course not!” he exclaimed. ”I'll get you pens, and help you study. If you want me to.”

Dean knew exactly why he thought he wouldn't want to, and felt very ashamed of it.

”I do”, he said. ”Really. And I'm sorry, about everything.”

He was completely honest, and that was probably what Cas saw, because he just gave him a tight little smile.

”I suppose it doesn't come as easily for everyone”, he said. ”For some it's harder, but you, you've changed your opinions. You just needed time.”

 _I just needed 13 years,_ Dean thought.

”You're not so bad”, Cas continued.

”How would you know?”

” _Because._ I just know.”

He knew more than Dean did himself.

”So”, he cleared his throat. ”Friends?”

In lack of better ideas, he reached out his hand towards Cas.

”Friends”, he confirmed, as he took it with his own and shook it.

It lasted a little longer than it should have, but it was fine. Until they let go, and Dean suddenly realized that he had to get home.

”Do I smell?” he asked.

He was almost worried when Cas leaned forwards and actually sniffed him, but he was done within seconds and just theatrically waved a hand in front of his face.

”Oh, god, yes!”

He made some wretching noises and Dean rolled his eyes.

”Haha, very funny”, he muttered as he turned around to walk away.

He knew there was a big smile on his face and his steps were lighter than usual, but he couldn't be bothered.

”It's not even the smoke!” Cas yelled after him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I should let you know; when I'm in this, I'm in it for the long run. We're not even halfway through, so buckle up.


	10. Drown every sense you own

”Dad?”

Cas looked at him from the doorway, had been for some time. He had been trying to get the words out and make him notice him for a while, but when he actually managed to speak he was almost shocked.

”Yes?”

He turned to look at him from where he sat in his chair by the desk. Cas knew it was dumb to disturb him when he worked, it would have been better if he had done it some other time. He should have waited, or he could have done it during dinner, like he had planned to. But no, that hadn't worked. He hadn't managed to do it at, and suddenly dinner had been over.

He leaned against the doorframe, because his knee was suddenly hurting and he found it difficult to stand.

”What is it, Cas?”

He was so concerned, and Cas felt bad over being the reason for his worries.

”I saw Noam a few days ago”, he whispered. ”Several times, actually. For a few months.”

His dad sighed, and looked down at the floor.

”Does this mean you won't do it again?” he asked.

”Yes. I won't see him, ever. If he tries to make contact I'll tell you right away, I swear.”

He looked up again, with a small and strained but genuine smile on his face.

”I'm so proud of you, Cas”, he said. ”Do you know that?”

”Yes”, Cas whispered. ”I do know that.”

***

”Dean.”

Dean looked towards the sound.

”How long have you been home?” he tried in the cheeriest tone he could muster.

”Not so long”, John replied. ”Come here.”

”I was just gonna grab a bi-”

” _Come here._ ”

His voice was sterner when he repeated it, so Dean couldn't do anything but obey him and walk towards the living room. John was sitting on the couch, slightly bent forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He looked towards Dean quickly when he stopped in the doorway.

”I was going to take a smoke”, he said, as he returned to staring straght ahead of himself, at the coffee table with the beer bottles on it.

Dean counted, there were three new ones.

”But of course, my lighter wasn't there.”

Of course it wasn't, because Cas had lit the cigarettes and Dean hadn't thought to ask for it back, because he had been preoccupied with other thoughts and forgotten all about it.

”Sit down.”

It wouldn't matter anyway, so Dean once again did as he was told. He positioned himself at the other end of the couch, with his back straight and his arms by his sides, ready to get up and run away if necessary. His father's voice wasn't angry yet either, it was just disappointed and very, very tired.

”I don't know what to do with you”, he said.

Dean placed his hands on his lap and looked down at them, because he wouldn't be abe to face him when he was like that.

And then John started crying. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed and snivelled quietly. Dean knew that it wouldn't be for long and what would come next, but he couldn't leave him like that. And even if he could, where would he go?

So he sat there, waited for it to be over, looked at his hands and thought about how stupid it had been in the first place.

***

”So, what happened when I was gone?”

Gabriel leaned back in his chair and placed his feet on the desk. They were the first in the classroom, the teacher was yet to show up, as were the other students.

 _Well, I might just have become best friends with Dean Winchester,_ Cas thought.

”Nothing”, he said.

”No, I'm serious”, Gabe insisted as he clasped his hands behind his head and looked at him. ”For real, what did I miss?”

”I smoked.”

”You what?”

”I smoked a cigarette.”

Gabriel chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

”Hold on”, he said. ”I don't think I heard you quite right, did you just said you _smoked?”_

Castiel shook his head and rolled his eyes.

”Yes! A real, actual cigarette with nicotine and cancer and everything.”

”Am I losing you?”

”Yeah, of course, I'm already dying.”

Gabe looked up at the ceiling and laughed.

”That's not what I meant”, he snorted. ”I just meant that you'll leave me behind to become a badass.”

”I'd leave you behind to become anything.”

”Gabriel, please remove your feet from the desk.”

At the sudden interruption of the teacher, Gabriel quickly did exactly as he was told and almost fell off his chair in the process.

”I see you have recovered quite well”, the teacher commented as he slammed down a couple papers on the desk in front of the board. ”Now, where are the others?”

As scruffy teenagers started streaming in through the open door, Gabriel leaned towards Cas and smirked.

”Why'd you do it?” he teased.

At that point Cas set eyes on Dean, making his way through the door and pushing through the crowd. They made eye contact, and Dean smiled. Small and quickly, but still enough.

”Just felt like it”, Cas said, only giving Gabriel the quickest glance. ”It's not as bad as everyone thinks it is.”

Gabriel snorted, redirected his attention towards the teacher and the board and twisted a bit in his chair.

”But that's it?” he whispered, as the teacher clapped his hands and started speaking. ”Nothing more?”

Dean sat a few rows ahead of them, his back was straighter than it usually was and he was looking at the teacher instead of his desk. Except for when he turned his head ever so slightly for just half a second, and looked at Castiel.

”No”, he whispered, as a smile grew on his face. ”Nothing more.”

***

They met again in the cafeteria, ended up next to each other in the lunch line. Dean's heart was pounding at the possibility of someone seeing them together and drawing the wrong conclusions, but it was almost as if Cas knew that. He didn't look at him at all, but kept his head down and his eyes at his tray.

”So it's your place after school?” he whispered.

”Yeah”, Dean replied.

Cas didn't respond to that, just turned around and shouted something and laughed as he walked towards Gabriel, who was sat with the others and didn't appear to have noticed a thing.

For a second he wished Cas could be laughing with him like that, just like he had done in his backyard when they had smoked together. But at school that wasn't a possibility, and Dean was relieved that Castiel knew that too.

He went to all his classes that day, and not to see him, because they didn't have any more together. He did it because he actually wanted to. He didn't force himself, didn't struggle or change his mind, and it was easier than he had thought it would be. He realized more and more that he actually could do it, and as he did his smile grew bigger and bigger.

Of course, they didn't notice. They weren't the people to care about that sort of thing. They just sat on his car, smoked their cigarettes and smiled their smug smiles.

”Hey, dude”, Michael said. ”Where we goin' today?”

For a second Dean froze, thinking he had forgotten making up plans with them. Plans he wouldn't fulfill, because he was supposed to study, with Cas.

”Fuck, nowhere”, he muttered. ”I'm going home, I'm sick of you losers.”

It wasn't a joke, even though they took it as one.

”The fuck are you gonna do at home?” Gadreel snorted.

”None of your business.”

Raphael dropped a cigarette to the ground without mustering the energy to stomp on it and put it out.

”What are we supposed to do then?” he whined.

”That ain't my problem”, Dean said.

”He's going soft on us”, Michael chuckled.

”I'm not going _fucking_ soft!” Dean shouted.

”Then at least drive us”, Gadreel growled.

Dean had to consider it. Cas would be at his place any second, and he would be there alone with John. That wasn't good. But the others were already thinking him soft and lesser than them, and it was bad enough that he was ditching them, even worse that he was doing it to study, and with Cas. If it was all he could do, he had to drive them.

He sighed.

”Where to, ladies?”

***

”Oh, hi.”

That was not the person his heart was pounding more than it should for, the one that was the reason his hands were probably shaking.

”Hello, Castiel”, John said.

Cas didn't know why he was so uncomfortable or found the situation so awkward, because John lived in the house and had every right to be there, and he was nice and polite. Maybe his stomach was turning not because it was him, but because it wasn't Dean.

Cas cleared his throat.

”Is Dean home?”

”No, not yet.” John furrowed a brow. ”He was in school today?”

”Yeah, 'course he was”, Cas faked some confusion and thought he did it rather well. ”Why wouldn't he have been?”

”No, of course.”

Perhaps expecting Castiel to continue the conversation, he remained silent for several seconds. But Cas was completely at loss for words, and did the same.

”Were you supposed to see him here?” John asked and smiled encouragingly. ”Did you have plans?”

”Oh, yes”, Cas said and felt a weight lift off his shoulders. ”We were supposed to study.”

”I didn't know you were friends”, John said. ”Didn't know he studied, either.”

”No, we're friends”, Cas assured him. ”Good friends.”

”Would you like to come in, and wait for him?”

That seemed a whole lot better than standing out there, so Cas nodded his head.

”Yes, thank you.”

John stepped aside and let him in, then closed the door behind him. Cas noticed how empty the house seemed and how bare the walls were, but they had only lived there for a few months, and the man had lost his son. It was understandable if they hadn't bothered to unpack everything yet.

”His room is upstairs to the left”, John said.

Cas smiled at him and ascended up the stairs. It looked just the same up there, unpersonal, as if no one was living there.

He had expected Dean's room to be chaotic, a sloppy mess of things. It wasn't. There weren't any posters on the walls or clothes and personal items covering the floor and bed. It was light, empty and organized. There was a closet that was small and closed, a queensized bed with grayish covers that was a bit sloppily made but still better than Castiel's own, and by the only window there was a desk and a chair. The desk was empty, apart from the amulet that was on it.

Cas looked around without touching anything and sat on the bed and stared at the closet, but it couldn't be helped. He sighed, took some long steps towards the desk and picked up the amulet. It was stolen and had been hanging around Sammy's neck for years, but Dean had left it in his room.

”I just thought you needed it”, he had said.

 _Maybe I do,_ Cas thought and closed his hand around it.

***

It had taken longer than expected, and Cas had been with John the whole time. Dean rushed out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. What if he knew? What if the time spent in his house, with his dad, had been enough? What if Cas knew?

”Is Castiel here?” Dean shouted.

”He's up in your room”, John grunted.

Dean sighed because he didn't sound drunk and he was downstairs while Cas was upstairs, but he still ran up there as fast as he could.

Cas was standing in the middle of his room, turned towards the door as if he had known he would burst through it that very second.

”Are you ready to get into Harvard?” he asked.

Dean laughed in relief, because he had almost been expecting something else.

”Yeah, sure”, he said.

Cas put a hand down his jacket pocket and pulled out a pen.

”Like I said”, he said.

Something was beginning, Dean could feel it. That pen was the start of something new, something very, very big. Something that he might have been waiting for.

”I don't have any paper”, he breathed out.

”Should I be surprised?” Cas smirked.

”Should I be surprised if you have some in your pocket?”

”Uh, yes? How would I manage that?”

Then he would leave, Dean knew it. He would have to go, because that pen wasn't any good without any paper and he had no reason to be there.

”I do have some in my bag though”, Cas said, instead of putting his pen back in his pocket and leaving. ”Which is on your bed. Literally right in front of you.”

Dean looked towards his bed, and sure enough. There it was.

 


	11. When the sun found the moon

Cas liked it best when they were quiet. When it was just the two of them, on opposite sides of the room, just reading their separate books and scribbling down their notes, in complete and utter silence. Dean wasn't very talkative when concentrated, he just pursed his lips, squinted his eyes and stared at the object of his focus as if nothing but that existed and there was nothing else he had to do.

And Cas didn't do much either, he didn't know what it was he was supposed to have done. Read the books out loud? Dean wasn't a child, he could read. So what then? Quiz him? Write his papers and do his homework? Teach him things that weren't in the books, as if he actually knew more? No, he couldn't do anything but do his own work in the same room and just be there. He wasn't there to help teach him anything, he was there for support and company. He couldn't show Dean how to do things, just that he could.

Because that, Cas knew, Dean needed more than anything. Deep down he was still the same insecure boy that had ran across the road without watching just to impress him and cried when he hadn't been able to tie his shoelaces. Dean would always be like that, think he was stupid, have performance anxiety and need reassurance and support. Cas was there to believe in him because he couldn't do it himself, and he actually did. Dean wasn't dumb, Cas had looked through some of his papers and found that they were really good. If he set up his mind to it, if he actually tried, then Dean would definitely be able to get into college and make something of himself. Cas was convinced of that, and he thought that when he was around, Dean probably was too.

He had troubles concentrating at times, got preoccupied with his phone or distracted by some shadow on the wall. And he often decided that what he'd written wasn't good enough, grunted, crumbled up the paper and tossed it in the bin. But Cas subtly reminded him to study, and picked up the crumbled papers, uncrumbled them and said that they were fine. Dean just needed encouragement, and when he got it he smiled so lovely that all his teeth showed and Cas knew that he was helpless and there was no going back.

They were always in Dean's house, in his room, and they were always alone. John rarely bothered them and Castiel's parents thought he was at Gabriel's. So they sat there quietly, but Cas didn't mind the quiet. It wasn't an awkward silence, it was a peaceful one, during which they said the few things they needed to with looks and smiles. Cas never thought that it would ever end, that realization did not hit him. It wouldn't, that was an impossibility. They wouldn't graduate, start college and move away. It would last forever, that silence, and the moments when he told himself that Dean had looked at him even though he was pretending not to. It would never have to be more than that either, it was good enough as it was.

***

At school, Dean felt fake. As if every action, every eyebrow raise and every word, was carefully planned out and performed, as if it was an act. As if it was a theater, and he was an actor. Nothing was real there, nothing he did or say. Dean Winchester was not the person that went to that school, that was a part he was playing.

It wasn't good though, and it wasn't comfortable in any way. Dean did not feel relieved or victorious, he felt slimy and _fake._ He was pretending, everything was pretend. From the second he got out his car in the parking lot to when he closed the door behind him after the day was over, sometimes even longer than that, if he had to hang out with his ”friends” too. It was pathetic, that's how it was. The acting and the pretending, the fakeness.

He wanted to be Dean in school too. Dean wouldn't whistle after girls in skirts, write things in the bathroom stalls, skip classes to occupy the stairs, leave candy wrappers and lollipop sticks behind him in the corridors or glare at Castiel and the other football players. No, Dean would have gone up to Cas first thing every morning, then tag along with him the rest of the day and do whatever he did. Crack jokes at breaks and talk loudly during lunch, and if not play football then at least sit by the field, watch the practice and shout encouragingly when needed.

But he couldn't be Dean in school. He could be Dean at home with Castiel when they studied, because he had been the only person that had ever actually liked Dean and the only one that ever could. But in school, never. Cas was the only one, no one there would like Dean. And not because he cared about what people thought about him, but-

Alright, he did. He did care what people thought about him, he cared about that a lot. It was the only reason he couldn't be him in school, there were no other excuses or explanations. But even if it was slimy, fake and pathetic and sometimes made him want to rip his own face off in the restroom, he thought it was a perfectly valid reason.

***

That day was supposed to be an ordinary one, and it was, to a start. It was a pretty bad day, if Cas was to be honest, but he couldn't let anyone know and he kept himself standing by thinking about meeting Dean after football practice.

During that his knee hurt immensely, and he struggled with running and keeping up with everyone else. He thought his leg was going to bend and he was going to fall, and he would be lying there on the ground with his face in the grass until the coach would have to carry him away from there. But then he caught a glimpse of Dean by the field, only passing by and pretending not to watch or notice them, but not doing it quite as subtly as he thought. The split second Cas forgot about his knee was enough of a pause for him to be able to pull through the rest of practice.

Afterwards, as the others showered, he locked himself up in the restroom and cried silently for all sorts of reasons, without really knowing if it was because of the pain in his knee or anything else. But that was a normal, ordinary thing to do on a normal, ordinary day, and when Gabe asked Cas only said that he was fine.

They blasted rock music and sang along as he drove him home, and Gabriel shouted out the window at Dean's friends as they passed them in the street. He said something along the lines of ”not invited to the party?!”, they showed him their middle fingers and Cas sank lower into his seat and pretended that he wasn't there. Gabriel dropped him off by his house, said ”see you tomorrow” and drove off.

Cas stood on his own driveway for a while and waited for him to disappear out of his sight. The Impala was outside the house on the other side of the street and his heart was beating slightly faster as he made his way towards it. Suddenly it didn't feel like an ordinary day anymore.

It was almost as if Dean felt it too, that strange thing in the air. He was a bit flustered as he opened the door a second after the first knock, and he wasn't wearing shoes.

”Hi”, Cas said. ”Is John around?”

”Yeah, somewhere”, Dean mumbled and stroked his head.

Cas thought he heard a thud behind the walls of some other room, but didn't have time to comment on it as Dean spun around and almost ran up the stairs.

”There's a test tomorrow”, he shouted as he did so. ”Biology.”

Cas hung his jacket on the coat hanger and kicked off his shoes after a moment of consideration. When he was left alone, he peeked inside the kitchen for the first time. The amount of beer bottles on the table was noticeable, but not alarming. There were more noises, and that time he was certain that they were somewhere there in the house. Instead of figuring out where he went upstairs with his bag over his shoulder.

Dean was on his bed. He would usually sit by the desk and leave that place for Cas, but there he was. On the foot of the bed, with papers and books spread all around him. He looked up quickly as Cas came in.

”Sorry”, he said. ”I tried to do a bit on my own.”

”Tried? I think you did well.”

Instead of occupying the desk, Cas sat down opposite him and placed his aching knee on the bed.

”I don't know much I can do to help”, he said. ”I don't have biology, and I never really liked it.”

”It's fine”, Dean mumbled, without lifting his eyes off the paper. ”I just don't understand anything.”

Cas almost chuckled, but stopped at the smile when he realized that Dean was serious.

”I'll fail”, he proclaimed quietly. ”I can't do this.”

”No, you won't”, Cas assured him. ”You're just nervous but that's fine, everyone's nervous about tests.”

”It's just not that test”, Dean said, louder, as he looked up at him. ”It's everything, I'll fail all of it. It was stupid to begin with, I won't actually do this, I can't get into college.”

The desperation and hopelessness in his eyes was genuine and heartbreaking, but Cas had no idea what to do about it.

”Of course you can”, he tried. ”You will.”

”No, I won't! You maybe, not me. I don't know why I even thought it in the first place.”

He stroked the back of his head with the hand holding the pen and breathed faster. Cas didn't think, just had to do something, and without considering the consequences grabbed his other arm. Dean froze and stared at him, and for a second Cas was mute and couldn't do anything but stare back, thinking over and over _I've fucked up._

”Dean-”, he started, not yet knowing how to continue the sentence.

He was not given the chance to figure that out, because suddenly he was interrupted. Quickly Dean leaned in towards him, took the back of his head with his hand so roughly he almost pressed the pen into it, and placed his lips on Cas'.

It was fast and he pulled away only a second later, before Cas had been able to react or make it into anything more than a light peck on the lips. He was still shocked too, hadn't expected it at all and had no idea why he had done it, what he had expected of him or what was to come next. And his knee still hurt, but there were butterflies in his stomach and his heart was pumping blood through his veins faster than ever before.

***

Had he planned it? No, he hadn't. But had he wanted to it? Yes, he had. He had wanted to do it for a long time, had thought about it every time he had seen him, wondered how his lips felt and how he tasted. When he finally got to know, it wasn't anything special. Just the way it was supposed to be, as if he already knew and only needed to remind himself.

He hadn't planned what to do afterwards either, and that didn't come as naturally. He just sat there, looked at him and knew that everything had changed, but not how. It didn't scare him though, because he knew that whatever would come was good. How could it be anything but? The thought only excited him, as did the fact that he was the reason for the smile on Cas' face. No one had smiled that brightly because of him since his mother had died, and he had thought he had lost the ability to make someone do it. But he hadn't, because he had made Cas smile, and there wasn't a person in the world he wanted to do it more.

”I should get back to this”, Dean whispered.

”Yeah, of course”, Cas said.

In that moment, Dean knew he was just as happy that Dean was smiling because of him. Maybe that was even better, that someone wanted to make him smile too. And Cas didn't have to worry, because Dean wasn't planning to stop in a very long time.

 


	12. The fear of falling apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some strong language and homophobia

If there was one thing Cas was sure of, it was that it hadn't been nothing. What it had been he wasn't so sure of, but that it was _something_ he knew. He had felt it in the air, seen it in his eyes and tasted it on his lips. _Something._

That they hadn't talked about it didn't mean that nothing more would follow, because it would. It only meant that Dean had to study for a biology test and that whatever would come next had to come later. Cas didn't mind, because he could wait. He was getting more and more certain that he already had been waiting for 13 years, and a few more days wasn't a big deal. He wasn't in a hurry, he wasn't anxious or unable to wait, but he didn't feel that he was supposed to be either. No, he wasn't supposed to be anything he wasn't. Everything was perfect.

He hadn't felt that way in a very long time, and he had forgotten that there could be a good reason to be unable to sleep. It didn't even bother him that he spent hours tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling until he had memorized every little crack, mark and deviance. He was aware that he would be tired the next day, but he could stay awake like that forever, and just think and imagine all the things that would happen the next day and everything that would follow. He didn't need to dream, not when his reality was good enough.

***

When he placed the pen on the desk the thunderous sound echoed in his head, and when he sat down on his chair he felt twice as heavy as he was and it was as if he did it in slow motion. His heart wasn't racing, which was surprising. It actually felt more as if it wasn't beating at all, as if the blood had frozen in his veins and wasn't circulating. It was something strange in it too, something that made him cold and stiff. The world was a blur in front of his eyes, and the few sounds that got through the cotton he must have had in his ears were muffled.

Dean didn't know what was happening to him, and he couldn't try to figure it out either. It was blank inside his head, he couldn't form a single thought. He must be dying, that must be it. Those were his last moments ever, and he was only vaguely aware that a paper was placed in front of him on the desk.

With much struggle he managed to direct his eyes towards it. The blank side was turned towards him, but he didn't need to the text to know and actually see that he wouldn't understand a single word. In fact, he wouldn't even understand the letters. It would be written in hieroglyphs, and he would fail.

When did he ever do anything but? He had been dumb to think that he could do it, escape the endless failures. It had only been a fantasy, and would never be anything but. It was almost worse that certain day, maybe because he had actually tried and wanted to. But maybe it was because he would fail someone else, someone other than himself and his dad; Cas.

Dean didn't hear the teacher tell them to turn the papers around, but as he suddenly noticed that everyone else did he assumed that he was supposed to. He read the first question, and to his surprise the words weren't written with hieroglyphs, but letters he could actually understand. He could understand the words too, and the sentences they formed.

But the answer? He didn't know what it might be. Couldn't remember ever having learned about that in his life. But there were options, A, B and C, and for some reason he just wanted to cross C. And he did, because what difference would it make?

He didn't know the second answer either, but there he crossed B. Probably not because he knew it was right, but because it felt at least somewhat okay, and if he had to cross one then that would definitely be the one. And before he knew it, he had reached the end of the paper and crossed an answer for the final question.

Dean blinked and stared at the paper, surprised that he had actually done it, and confused about what to do next. He tried to read the questions again and maybe actually know the answers that time, but he couldn't. The words disappeared before they reached his mind and he could make sense of them, he couldn't focuse at all.

Pens scribbled frantically all around him, and Dean wondered what he could do, because he certainly wasn't content sitting still. Think was all he could do, and he did. He thought a bit about Sammy, and wondered what they would be serving for lunch in the cafeteria. But soon enough he lost control of his thoughts and they slowly drifted into a completely new subject, and for the first time Dean thought about _it._

***

”You're in a strange mood”, Garth commented.

Castiel clutched at his books and wondered if he actually saw or knew something, or was just in a strange mood himself.

”Really?” he tried in a bored and uninterested tone.

”Yeah, it's like you're not even here”, Garth said, then turned his head slightly and smiled at a girl they walked past. She didn't appear to even have noticed him, but Cas knew he would talk about that moment for weeks to come and be completely convinced she had smiled back.

But the truth was, Garth wasn't a problem, and neither was whatever he thought. He couldn't possibly see on Cas' face that Dean had kissed him, of course he couldn't. If there was anyone that could, it was Gabriel. Who had unfortunately heard them, and ever so slightly turned his head towards them and raised an eyebrow. He didn't stop walking, but slowed down enough for them to catch up with him and for him to end up right next to Cas.

”Why, what is it?” he demanded to know.

”Nothing, I just haven't slept so much.”

”Did you see how she smiled at me?” Garth interrupted.

”Are you sure?” Gabe asked, with his eyes on Cas and definitely not Garth.

”Yeah, of course I am!” he said, because he didn't see that as he was still looking after her. ”Does anyone know her name?”

”I have no idea”, Cas replied and did the same, not because he was interested but because he wanted to get Gabriel off his back. ”Never seen her.”

When he directed his eyes forwards again he was met by someone he had seen before. Dean was carelessly against the wall with boredom in his eyes and only a fraction of a smirk on his lips. It was the wrong Dean, not the one that had kissed him. That Dean wouldn't have looked away when their eyes met.

The guys he hanged out with in school were there with him too, and Cas supposed that was the reason. He didn't know their names and had never talked with Dean about them, but he didn't like them.

Cas was not going to say anything, he could wait. They were there, and Gabriel was too. Cas was going to walk straight past them and pretend that he didn't know him. That was exactly what he would have done.

***

Through the crowds of students on their way to lessons he should be attending too, Dean spotted him. The single look they exchanged filled him with something warm and fluttry, as if something inside him was trying to escape. They had a secret, they knew something no one else in that corridor knew. Dean had done something (probably) none of them had ever done, and he knew how it was to kiss Castiel Novak, and that his lips were much softer than they looked. It was remarkable, exhilarating and wonderful, and Dean would have thought of it even more and be completely lost in those thoughts, if someone hadn't decided to interrupt them.

”Look at that”, Michael scoffed.”Castiel.”

Dean was almost convinced he knew that he had already been looking at him, and tensed up at once.

”The way you go on about him I almost suspect you two have a thing”, Gadreel smirked.

Cas smiled at Garth, presumably because of something he had said. It was unnerving, to say the least, that he could be so completely unaware that they were talking about him, that he couldn't in any way sense or feel it.

”Me, gay? As if that's likely.”

” _He_ is in the football team, y'know.”

”But we all know that's just for the locker room.” Michael shivered. ”Don't know why they put up with that, him seeing them naked and all.”

Dean couldn't look at them, but not at Cas either. He settled on his shoes, and tried to focus on drowning out the voices.

”Say whatever you want”, Raphael chimed in, ”but I bet he'd suck your dick, Mike, and do a pretty damn good job of it too.”

And like that they moved on to joke about how much he needed that, and how it was pretty much the only action he would be able to get. Dean let out a sigh of relief, and thinking the danger was over he lifted his eyes from his shoes, and instead found Cas just in front of him. Garth and Gabriel were chatting on opposite sides of him, but without slowing down Cas stared right at Dean, and he became convinced that he would say something, that he would let absolutely everyone know, and Dean would be the subject of the jokes.

”What are you looking at?” he blurted out.

It was supposed to save the situation, just make Cas look away and continue walking. The others wouldn't suspect a thing and he could apologize to him later. But Cas didn't look away, instead he stopped. And Dean had said it louder than he had planned to, so Gabriel and Garth did too, as Gadreel, Michael and Raphael all became quiet and observed the conversation.

”What the fuck?” Gadreel chuckled.

Cas didn't even look at him, only at Dean. With eyes that were hurt and disappointed, and wouldn't just move on or take an apology.

”Move along”, Michael commanded.

Cas only gave him a quick glance without quite moving his head, and then he looked back at Dean, as if asking him to protect him, to make it stop. No, not asking, demanding. But if it was already to late for apologies, then what difference would that make? Dean couldn't stand being demanded, and didn't say a word.

”What the hell is your problem?!” Gabriel threatened, taking a step towards them.

Surely he must have been aware that he was smaller than them all, but it didn't seem to matter.

”Oh, protecting the boyfriend are we?” Raphael said with an eyebrow raise.

”Better keep him under control”, Gadreel suggested.

Cas stared at Dean, but at that point he wouldn't have been able to make it stop even if he had tried.

”Gabe”, Garth whispered.

”How dare you?!” Gabriel continued, blowing himself up but not yet going as far as to actually get physical.

They laughed scornfully at him.

”Get out of my face”, Dean whispered with his eyes at Cas.

That was all he had needed, the confirmation he had waited for. With an arm on Gabriel's arm he gave Dean a quick smile that he couldn't quite read.

”Gabe”, he said. ”Let's go.”

”They're not worth it”, Garth agreed.

”Come on.”

For a second Gabriel stood there to make up his mind, then he raised a warning finger at them and took a step back.

”You just got very lucky”, he claimed.

He turned around and placed a protecting arm over Cas' shoulders, and they walked away from there quickly. Garth was the only one to look back, giving them a look that said _that was unnecessary, wasn't it, guys?_

”Oh no”, Michael shouted after them. ”I'm so disappointed!”

He laughed loudly when Gabriel gave him the finger.

”Jesus Christ”, Gadreel mumbled. ”What was all that about?”

Dean's stomach was turning, and he thought he just might throw up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe not the best chapter to post on Valentine's day, but oh well.


	13. The lonely moments

A throbbing pain resided in his knee, and both his legs were so weak that Cas was surprised that they hadn't yet buckled and caved in, but actually carried him all the way up the stairs. To lose some of the weight he dropped his bag on the floor, before he carefully closed his bedroom door behind him.

He was angry at and disgusted by himself, and amazed by how he had managed to make the same mistake twice. Maybe it was the anger that made his eyes tear up, and not the unimaginable pain that wasn't in his knee.

Cas sobbed loudly, reaching his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and clenching it around the amulet. No, it definitely didn't work.

***

Dean hadn't fallen asleep when the first stones hit his window that night. He lay fully clothed on top of his covers as they started rattling at the window shield and cracking the glass, and within seconds he was up and opening the window, ensuring that the noises wouldn't wake John.

In the darkness he could at first only distinguish one figure, and it was Cas. With his blue eyes begging for his help, telling him to make it stop, asking him what the hell he was doing, with the lips he had kissed. His heart almost certainly skipped a beat, but it wasn't pleasant as so often described in books and films, but actually painful.

But of course, it wasn't Cas, because there were three other figures on his front lawn, and when his eyes had adjusted to the lack of light Dean could see who they were.

”Are you coming out?” Gadreel shouted.

Dean took in a big, shocked breath before Raphael added; ”There's a party on West street!”

What they needed wasn't his company but a driver, but in that moment Dean couldn't care less.

”Yeah”, he only almost shouted, trying to keep his voice loud enough for them but not his father to hear, if there was any risk he could wake up after all the alcohol he had consumed that evening. ”Shut the hell up, I'm coming!”

It was, if anything, a way to be able to stop thinking about it for a little while and keep the thoughts away. Michael let out a loud ”woohoo!”, only because Dean had told him not to. He wanted to punch him in the face, thinking about how he had talked about Cas that day.

Dean took the stairs in the fewest steps possible and opened and closed the front door as quietly as he could. The only lit window of the house on the other side of the street was the one in Cas' room, but Dean didn't allow himself to look at that for more than a second. The others were already trying to break open the doors of the Impala, and were inside it a second after he had unlocked them.

West Street was a twenty minute drive away, but it could have been in a different world. It was not a nice neighborhood, the houses were small and shabby and the lawns were cramped, filled with garbage and surrounded by makeshift fences, and during the summer the grass would no doubt be yellow and too long. Dean knew, without having spent any time in such places, that it was the sort of street were dogs barked all day and people stabbed each other during the night, the sort of place where he and his dad would've lived, if it had been a movie and not real life.

Dean had never been at an actual party, but doubted that that could count as one. There was no music, dancing or beer in red plastic cups, ragged looking guys drank moonshine from vases and sat in corners, locked themselves in rooms with girls or aggressively pushed each other against walls while shouting.

Dean spent ten minutes in that house – most of them on the couch, beside a guy who he after a while realized was actually injecting drugs with a syringe – and drank half a vase of a very disgusting and alcohol heavy liquid before he pushed his way through the people without apologizing, threw the door open and leaned against the railing of the porch, trying to figure out where and who he was. He wished for a mirror, in which he could look at himself and realize how low he had sunk, which was sure to make him actually _realize._ There was no mirror out on that porch, but maybe he realized anyway. Because Dean slid down to the floor, placed his head in his hands and snivelled loudly without quite knowing why. John would have killed him if he had seen him like that, but only because he was just like him. And maybe that was why he was crying.

Or maybe it was because there was no denying it any longer, because he had actually kissed Cas and wanted to do it, and it had to mean something. It had to mean there was something wrong with him, that he was something he wasn't supposed to be, and that people would talk about him like they talked about Cas, spit at him on the street and hold up signs to protest his very existence. His head was a big mess of thoughts about that, about not belonging, not being right, not being like the others, differing from the rest.

He wanted to get away from there, because it didn't help him forget it, it only made him feel even worse. At home he would at least be able to look out his window and see Cas', and keep track of whether he went to bed when he should or not. But he didn't want to go back inside and didn't think he would be able to either, and even if he had been able to walk on those weak, shaky legs without seeing properly it wouldn't have made a difference, because he hadn't seen the others since they had arrived, they had disappeared the second the door had closed behind them. He would probably be the most sober one too, so if he couldn't drive then they wouldn't be able to either. He was in for trouble when he managed to get home, but it was Friday so he didn't have to worry about being hungover in school. As if it would make a difference.

As he sat there, contemplating his life and all the wrong choices he had made, something slumped down beside him. Because he was so busy, Dean was only aware of someone else's presence without yet being able to see or hear who it was.

There were some deep noises, which he took a while to identify as words, and even longer to make out to be ”oh my god”. Dean turned his head, wincing at the pain that the movement caused and the half a second of blindness that followed. When he could see again he confirmed that it was just who he had known it was, even though he was too blurry for any features to be identified. But all Dean needed was the blue eyes, that were in his focus for just long enough to be seen.

”It really is you”, Cas said.

It sounded clearer than Dean would have guessed it would, clearer than everything else.

”I suppose it is”, he was sure he replied, but he was not as sure as to how loud and clearly he did it.

”How are you?” he heard, it seemed to come from further away and wasn't as clear.

”Not good.”

”I'm four.”

It was clear again, but Cas wasn't four anymore. He was seventeen years old, 5”9 and on the football team, and he had beautiful blue eyes and soft lips that had a strange ability to make everything better if you kissed them. And as Dean was in desperate need of something to make him feel better, that was exactly what he did.

At first it was just how he had imagined it would be, how he had felt it in his dreams before he had woken up. It was just him and Cas and nothing else existed, and he wanted to drown in his eyes or disappear into his mouth, he couldn't get close enough. And Dean pressed himself harder against him, and reached out to touch him and merge them into one, but before his hand reached Cas' cheek it met something else.

Hair, long, thin hair, that Cas certainly didn't have. And then he could taste it, a strange taste of pure alcohol that didn't belong to him either.

Dean's eyes sprung open as he pulled away quickly, and he squinted them for a while until the world wasn't as blurry and he could distinguish who the person was in front of him. It wasn't Cas, it was a girl he had never seen, with stripy blonde hair, a mousy nose and a sickly pale skintone. She could have been pretty if she hadn't been drunk, but she was.

But it was good, Dean told himself. That he had kissed a girl completely voluntatily, and that he had actually liked it. It didn't matter that he was drunk and had thought she was Cas, he had still done it, it had to count. He hadn't thought he would have been able to, not after him. But there he was, and she was still in front of him, with her eyes slowly opening to wonder what he was doing. He didn't need more than to see the blue eyes again, just pressed his lips against hers once more.

He tried to find their rhytm again, but felt as if she was only chewing on his lip or trying to swallow his tongue. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn't ignore the taste or the smell, and her hair felt out of place in his hand. He wasn't suppose to be there, that was all he could think. It wasn't right.

But the alternative wasn't right either. Cas was even less right, it was even worse. But he tasted so much better and his lips were so much softer, and he hadn't bitten him in the lip.

It quickly became so unbearable that Dean had to throw up. All he had time to do was pull away from her and turn his head a bit to the side, then it all came out of him. He retched and rretched, and she moved a bit further away as if she was still expecting them to continue after he was done. But Dean had no plan for that, or he would surely do it in her mouth the next time.

When the sludge on the porch was of considerable size and he felt as positive as he could that it wouldn't grow more, he dried mouth with his sleeve and forced himself into an upright position. His legs didn't quite carry him, but he fell just in the right position to be able to support himself against the wall, and with his hands positioned against it he stumbled towards the steps down from the porch. She said something after him, but he couldn't hear it through the ringing in his head.

By some miracle he got across the front lawn after only falling once, and even though it took him a while to figure out how to open the door to the Impala and even longer to realize that he had to unlock it first, Dean was suddenly in the front seat of his car and out of reach for drunk blondes who live off the tongues of even drunker guys. His head was aching, the world was still foggy and he could taste the vomit in his mouth. There was still time for there to be more, but as he sat there the risk seemed to grow smaller every second.

Dean thought about the girl, and how he would never be able to feel about her the way he did about Cas, about how he never would be able to feel that way about any girl at all.

”I'm not gay”, he told the drunk, ragged looking version of himself in the mirror. ”I can't be gay. I'm not gay.”

Drunk Dean in the mirror didn't look like he believed drunk Dean in the car. Someone screamed at the party. And drunk Dean in the car might not have been gay, but the drunk Dean in the mirror was certainly something.

***

Through his window Cas saw the Impala return at around four that night. It slid over the grass as if Dean had lost control over it, and for a second he almost thought it would crash into the garage door. He worried too much about that possibility, but the car stopped on the driveway.

Cas didn't see Dean get out and wasn't sure he wanted to, but he closed his blinds when the front door of the house opened and John was about to burst out.

 _Serves him right,_ Cas thought, as he lay back down on his bed, clenched the amulet that didn't work and screamed.

 


	14. When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, I'm back, and look; I've brought angst.

He went to that class because- Because why? No reason at all. He didn't remember that that was the day he would get the test back, and he couldn't have cared less even if he had. He didn't remember taking that test at all, he couldn't possibly have passed it, so why would he have bothered?

But he sat slumped over his desk with his face in his hands, something slammed down on the desk in front of him, and there was a brief whisper that sounded almost like; ”good job”.

Dean frowned, grabbed the paper, and frowned even harder. In the top right corner was a big red B. He stared at it in confusion, it couldn't be true. A C- he could have hoped for, a C if he had been cocky. But not that, never _that._ Had he ever gotten a B? Not to his recollection, never. It wasn't even a B-, it was just a regular B.

He almost raised his hand to ask if he had gotten the wrong paper, but his name was right there, in his handwriting too. Dean put his hand down and made some strange noises that he wasn't sure were crying, laughter, or choking on his tongue.

Gabriel sat a few rows ahead of him and turned around, staring suspiciously and perhaps hoping that he actually was choking. Dean just stared back at him. He considered lifting the paper for him to see that _glorious_ B, but no, he didn't deserve that. There was only one person he wanted to show it to.

***

Cas rubbed his hands under the running water, rinsed away the soap and whatever else he imagined to be there. It usually took him so long to get it all off, and he never would have been able to explain why to anyone, but that time he felt cleaner faster than usual. He reached out for paper to dry with, when his eyes caught sight of one right beside the sink. A test, graded with a B. Cas looked up to his left. Dean had a black eye and a strange smile; hopeful, expectant, embarrassed, grateful?

”I've never gotten a B”, he said.

Cas nodded his head in disinterest, and the pain shooting into his heart that Dean didn't see.

”I'm serious”, he continued. ”It's the best I've ever done.”

”Why would I care?” Cas muttered, lowering his eyes and stepping past him.

”I thought you would”, Dean said, disappointed.

”I don't.”

”You see, the thing is-”

Cas gripped the doorhandle and immediately froze when it wouldn't open.

”Did you lock the door?”

”Yes.” Dean's voice shook.

Cas turned around. He was pale as a ghost and his smile was gone, his lips were shaking and his hands trembling for the paper, but his eyes didn't leave his.

”Why?”

”Because I want to talk.”

”I don't.” Cas pressed the button to unlock.

He needed to get out, his lungs were shrinking inside his chest and the air inside the restroom was unbreathable. But just as the pressed that button and Dean heard the click, he opened his mouth and almost screamed, ”I kissed you.”

And Cas stopped, as if those words had somehow changed everything in there and he could breathe again. And maybe it had, because suddenly there was something new between them, something that hadn't ever been there before.

”You did”, he said.

”I kissed you”, Dean repeated, the only words he knew in that moment, the only thought in his mind.

”You fucking did”, Cas sneered. ”Congratulations. Was it that hard?”

But in the way Dean gulped and directed his eyes to the ground for a second; Cas saw that it actually had been that hard. And he decided to do something that was, for him, just as hard – he locked the door again.

”Why?” he asked.

”I don't know”, Dean whispered. ”I've never done that before.”

”What, kissed someone?”

”No, kissed a _guy._ ”

Cas sighed and let go of the doorknob, letting his arm drop to his side.

”Where did you get that?” He signed towards Dean's face.

He forced his mouth to a strained smile. ”I got into a fight.”

”I'm not surprised”, Cas said. ”I'd hit you too.”

”Because I kissed you?”

”No, that's not why.”

Dean nodded and bit his lip.

”I'm sorry”, he said.

”Why?”

”For being an idiot, for-”

”No.” Cas snorted. ”I meant, why did you kiss me?”

Dean lowered his voice. ”I told you, I don't know-”

”Yes you do”, Cas interrupted.

”Fine!” Dean shouted. ”I do!”

Cas took a step back toward to the door in the silence that followed. He couldn't tell what he was supposed to do, and opened his mouth without anything to say, closing it just as quickly.

It was horrible what he felt, and how much he hoped that Dean's reason was what he thought. It was bad and he knew it, and he wasn't supposed to do it again, but there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

***

Dean knew that once he had said it there was no way of ever taking it back, that he couldn't change his mind. And even though he was as certain as he thought he ever could be, he was still trying to stall, make the moment longer, keep it in for as long as he could. But then Cas moved, he was going away, he was going to disappear. There was no time left to spare, if he would ever do it, that had to be the moment.

”I think I was in love with you”, he blurted out. ”When we were little and knew each other, I think I was in love with you.”

Cas looked dumbfounded with his eyes wide and jaw dropped. Dean knew that it was the last thing he wanted and could see on his face that he wished he hadn't said it, but he didn't. No matter the outcome or what would happen next, in that moment he felt good. He felt better than he had done in a very long time.

”Were you in love with me too?” he asked.

Cas looked down at his feet.

”I fucking proposed to you”, he mumbled.

That was a yes if Dean had ever heard one. His face lit up with a relieved smile.

”What about now?” he said.

Cas furrowed a brow and looked up again.

”Now?”

”Yes, are you in love with me now?”

He reimaned quiet and confused, and Dean stared at him expectantly. But with every second that no answer came, the hopeful light in his eyes died down and the smile on his face faded away.

”Aren't you?”

Cas scoffed scornfully. ”Why would you care?”

”Because I'm still in love with you!” Dean's voice was high, desperate, frantic and scared. ”Or again, or, whatever!”

”Why would I care?” Cas muttered, staring at him cruelly.

”Because I want to be with you”, Dean whispered.

He took a careful step towards him, needed to be close to him and keep him from disappearing. He didn't only want to be with him, he _needed_ to be with him, he wouldn't be able to live without him, wouldn't take another breath if he wouldn't change his mind. Because he loved Castiel, not again, still. He had loved him for 13 long years, from the other side of the country and without remembering how he looked or how his voice sounded. And nothing else mattered, _nothing,_ if Cas just said yes and Dean got to hold him, kiss him, love him and tell him everything no one else would want to hear. If he just said yes, held him too, kissed him, loved him back and listened.

But he didn't look like he would do that. He looked angry, sad, hurt and disappointed, and when Dean only wanted to get closer, he needed just as much to get farther away, and took a step towards the door.

***

”Don't you-”

It was unclear whether that was the entire sentence or Dean just lost his voice and couldn't find it again. It was weak, desperate, and very believable. Oh, if Cas hadn't known better he would have fallen for it, hard, head-first and happily. He would have swallowed it all, the teary eyes, the stumble towards him and the hands reaching out before changing their minds. He would have believed it because he would have wanted to, and he still did. Even though he knew none of it to be true, he still wanted it to be.

”You're fucking pathetic”, he said. ”You fucking _shit._ ”

Dean's glossy eyes stared at him desperately.

”I'm sorry”, he repeated.

”No!” Cas shouted. ”You don't get to be sorry, you have no right to be 'sorry'!”

He could feel his own tears, but not if they were from the anger or the sadness, or the actual, physical pain.

”Do you have any idea how cruel this is?!”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and snorted quietly. He was still hoping, god, he was _still_ hoping. He must think Cas was stupid, must believe him to be completely dumb! How could he _still_ hope?

” _Do you_?!”

Dean shook his head quietly. No, he didn't, of course he didn't. He wouldn't understand it if Cas sat him down for a two hour long PowerPoint presentation and included pictures and all the Led Zeppelin songs in existence.

”You can't do that to me!” he shouted. ”Not again! This time I know! And I don't only know people like you, but _you_! And you're the most pathetic little shit I have ever met!”

Dean took a deep breath, and with a shaky voice said, ”But I just want-”

”I know what you want!” Cas yelled. ”I know that too! I've been through it before, and I'll be damned if I let myself do this again!”

Dean lowered his eyes, and Cas raised his arm.

”You don't get to do that”, he said, calmer, but firmly. ”You don't get to come back after 13 years, treat me like shit, lock me in in a fucking restroom and still expect me to fall for all your shit.”

Dean couldn't say anything anymore. He was mute, broken, destroyed- No. He was disappointed in himself, he was humiliated and he was angry over being turned down. Cas knew that.

”I hate you”, he said, because he almost hadn't seen it. He had almost thought that he was something else. ”I _hate_ you, do you understand that?”

Dean meekly nodded his head. Cas turned around, unlocked the door and flung it open, then left him there. And he felt nothing about it, _nothing._

Except he did. But he didn't admit it to himself, because it wasn't what he was supposed to feel.

***

His hand shook, and in it he had crumbled his test into an unreadable mess. But what did that matter? What did one B on one biology test matter? What did good grades matter? What did _anything_ matter? There was only one thing that mattered, and that was the thing that had just left, the thing that hated him.

Dean must have screamed, because when he looked into the mirror he looked like he was. But strangely enough he didn't hear a thing, and the mirror... He punched it with his fist, hard, twice. It took a while for the pain to come and the blood to start flowing, but it was in pieces quickly.

But of course, that stupid mirror didn't matter either. He threw his test in the trash can and stormed out of the room, people watching him as he swept by. He must have screamed, and they must have heard. But he didn't care, because he could scream it out to the entire world, that he loved Cas, if he only loved him back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a thing... Apologies for the delay, I got caught up writing a bunch of other stuff. I can't promise I will update quickly (or at all) but I'll try, if anyone still wants me to. Sorry.


	15. Always time for second guesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was very pleasantly surprised by the many comments the last chapter received in my absence; thank you SO MUCH! So I know I've turned into a horrible updater, but I promise to try to do better in the future, with summer being here and all. If you keep reading, I'll keep writing.

Cas didn't change his mind. He alternated between laughing at Dean and crying about how close he had gotten, but he never regretted his decision, not once. He wasn't wrong. Dean, was wrong. Seeing someone other than the actual him, believing him to be better, falling in love with him, kissing him; that was wrong. It was even more wrong of him to try to wriggle his way past all Cas' walls and convince him of something else, to try to take advantage of him and tell him such lies. What Cas had done wasn't wrong, it was the right and sensible thing to do, the only option.

He got four texts from Noam, and one phone call. He didn't even feel tempted to respond to them in any way, never did as much as consider it. Why would he?

”You look happy”, Gabriel said, poking his shoulder with a pen.

Cas shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

”I suppose I am.”

He didn't sleep much and had bags under his eyes, but he _was_ happy. He was free and out of harm's way, he had made a good and brave thing, and he didn't need Dean.

***

After the catastrophe that was his first party, Dean didn't want to ever do that again. He still felt like throwing up when he thought about the girl with the blonde, stripy hair, and sometimes when he looked into a mirror he could still see himself the way he had done in the rear-view mirror that night.

He cleaned away John's beer bottles, dirtying himself in the process, and promised that he would never end up like that, while trying to sneak around quietly enough not to wake him up. It was the worst of all possible outcomes, Dean realized, looking at the man who was supposed to be his father, passed out on the couch shirtless with his pants open. He knew enough to know that this wasn't what life was supposed to be like, and he didn't want it to be.

But he had no better plans for his own future and could easily see himself in that exact positon ten years down the line. He'd be zapping through the tv channels with a fat wife making noise in the kitchen and a baby screaming in another room, and fat and balding he would, with a scoff, think back to the one time when he had thought he was gay. Of course he wasn't, he would tell himself, taking another sip of alcohol. That Cas guy was just very feminine.

He often wanted to bang his fists against things, but all he could do was clench them and breathe out through his nose. John couldn't be woken or disturbed, and Dean couldn't be loud or break things. Then eventually, he banged his fists against some guy's face. He started bleeding and his nose looked crooked, but he had been so loud and arguing with Dean about something. He didn't even know what, but he knew that it wasn't that guy he was actually angry at.

The B in biology was a one time thing, and it wasn't repeated. Dean couldn't care less though. The few days he actually dragged himself to school he was too busy dodging Michael and Co. He didn't want to relive the party night and feared being talked into it, knowing he wouldn't decline the offer either. He didn't trust himself to have that willpower. So he avoided them at all costs and spent the breaks alone, locked inside the bathroom where he had so proudly shown Cas his biology paper, to remind himself about his own stupidity. He wouldn't allow himself to escape it.

But eventually they turned up on his lawn again, and gradually the sounds of the rocks against his window became impossible to ignore. Dean came with them, got drunk, did things, went home, paid the price, and forgot everything that had happened. Only the last part was good, but not many nights went by without the rocks on the window, and not many days passed that he didn't at least once throw up in the trash can in his room and sneak it out of the house before John discovered it. Ironic enough, as Dean saw plenty of his vomit around the house every now and then. He never bothered with hiding them. But then again, for him there wouldn't be any consequences.

Dean was very aware that he appeared to have gotten himself stuck in some sort of middle, a close-but-not-quite world where things happened without actually happening, and every morning when he woke up someone had pressed the reset button and nothing had had any impact. He went on, living days that were the same, and repeated the same pathetic routine every time. There were times when he (accidentally) saw a newspaper or heard the tv; and realized with shock that it was _Wednesday._ When was the last time it had been Wednesday?

Time was passing, the Earth was spinning, and none of it all concerned him. Because – and he knew this – he didn't belong there. He was like a kid waddling around in his father's clothes, playing pretend, an actor in a movie, playing a character and repeating lines someone else had written. And he didn't think he was a good actor, more at a soap opera level, someone who had gone in and out of rehab too many times to care – but no one else had any idea.

***

Cas was leaving school with his mind elsewhere and his eyes at the ground. He wasn't very aware of the world around him, only a muffled laugh somewhere right behind him, and then a tug at the backpack he had flung over his shoulder. He turned around just as the strap slid through his fingers and someone pulled it away.

Michael was smirking, holding his bag with one hand. Cas was blinking rapidly, trying to think.

”What are you doing?” he said.

”We're conducting a random bag inspection”, Michael grinned. ”What are _you_ doing?”

Where was Gabe? Cas' eyes darted across the yard, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. No one was. Why did he always insist on leaving after everyone else had gone? And why was there always someone waiting for him when he did?

”No you're not”, he said. ”Give me my bag back.”

”Can't do”, Raphael said smugly. ”Principal's orders, I'm afraid.”

”We gotta find all the dildos and butt plugs”, Gadreel added, smiling.

Cas glared right into his eyes. ”What are you gonna use them for?”

”Oh, it's a cocky one!” Gadreel laughed. ”A cocky little fagott!”

”I'm bigger than you”, Cas said. ”And I'm on the football team. Give me my bag.”

He took a step towards Michael, reaching out his arm, but he took an even bigger step back, and Cas missed, stumbling over his feet and flailing his arms for balance. All three of his tormentors decided that the most hilarious thing they had ever witnessed, and laughed loudly.

”'I'm taller than you'”, Raphael imitated with a high, squeaky voice. ”'I'm on the _football_ team!'”

Cas gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He didn't know if he would cry or try to punch someone, but the tears breaking through his eyes hinted at the first option. He took deep breaths, trying to gather himself together, and lowered his head.

”Aw!” Michael took a step toward him. ”Are you gonna cry?”

”He's gonna cry!” Gadreel screeched.

Raphael chuckled. Michael came closer again, and pushed Cas' chest with his free hand. Cas stumbled back a step, but he followed.

”What is it?” Another push. ”What's wrong, fairy?”

The third push was even harder, and at this point Cas had to struggle to stay upright and almost fell backwards. He was out of witty comebacks now, his mouth had frozen shut.

 _Again again again_ , he thought. _I know how this feels. Again again again._

Michael pushed him again, and this time he almost fell. But suddenly a voice shot through the yard and interrupted them, with a loud, ”Get the fuck away!”

***

Michael hadn't expected that of him, neither of them had. They all stared at Dean with confusion in their eyes, wondering if he was joking. He wasn't joking. He was more serious than he had ever been. His fists were ready to break jaws and his feet wanted to bash skulls. Whatever he would have to do, for Cas.

”What are you doing?”

”What does it look like we're doing?” Michael countered. ”We're teaching the pansy a lesson.”

Cas raised his eyes and met Dean's for a fraction of a second, but that was all he needed. That was all he needed to explode.

”Fucking don't”, he said.

”What of it?” Gadreel questioned.

”Why do you care?” Raphael sneered.

_Because I love him. Because I'm a pansy too._

Dean remained quiet, biting his tongue. There was three of them, and he and Cas were one and a half, judging by the state he was in. Poor Cas, who deserved so much better than that. So small and weak, so hurt and wounded, fragile and soft. After Noam, he shouldn't have to deal with that any more. Dean should take it for him now. He should say it out loud, whatever the consequences might be, and take the fall instead of Cas.

”Is he your boyfriend or something?” Michael mocked.

Dean didn't say it out loud. Instead he screeched, flung himself at him face first, and tackled him to the ground. Unprepared, Michael fell like a log, and by the time he had landed he was already defenseless. But Dean didn't care. He hadn't cared when Cas was.

He saw red, and he was punching without feeling the pain. Michael was whimpering, twisting, and trying to protect his face with his hands, but Dean didn't let him go. There was no mercy left in him.

Someone punched the side of his head. It took two blows to bring him away from Michael, but eventually Dean fell to the side. There were kicks against his body, some to the head, but his stomach took most of it. He could feel the pain now, intense and everywhere.

His vision was blurred, but suddenly he could see Cas coming at Raphael _(Stupid stupid stupid, why hadn't he left?)_ A good punch right to the face and a kick to the groin, but there Gadreel was coming to his rescue, and Michael seemed to have recovered too. Dean tried to get up, but the pain shot through his body and he fell back again. He couldn't move. Cas was a good fighter, but they were three against him and he didn't stand a chance.

Except, there weren't just four people anymore. There were _eight._ They had come out of nowhere, but there they were, and when both Gadreel and Raphael had tasted the asphalt too; they gave up. They turned around and ran off.

”Fuck!” Michael shouted. ”We were just teasing him, fuck!”

Dean winced, getting up on his elbows with all the strength he had left. Gabriel was examining Cas' bloody face and talking, and Garth followed the escaping attackers, looking threatening. Dean didn't know who the rest were, others from the football team, probably. He touched his own face, it was bloody too. His nose seemed crooked.

”What the hell just happened?” Gabriel said. ”What the hell did you do, Cas?”

”I didn't do anything!” Cas sneered, breaking free and bending down for his backpack.

When he was on his knees he looked at Dean, their eyes locked. Dean wished he could understand what he was thinking, but he wasn't given the chance, because another kick came at him from the other side and his head fell to the ground again.

”Don't!” he heard Cas protest. ”Let's just get out of here.”

Someone spat at the ground next to him (had presumably been aiming at him and missed, but Dean wouldn't complain), but he heard them all walk away. He was left behind alone, on his back on the ground, and closed his eyes.

There were many possible thoughts then, but all he knew was that he couldn't go home looking like that.

***

Correction; Cas did change his mind.

 


	16. Dance to this beat and hold a lover close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet, and may I say; the most important one?

Dean lay on his bed when John entered the room without knocking, his back a bit crouched and his shoulders slumped. He could look quite pathetic when he wanted to, and Dean scoffed before he could stop himself. But his father didn't get appear to notice, he just reached out a paper in his hand and took a step closer.

”Why didn't you tell me about this?”

”About what?”

John waved the paper, Dean sighed, scooched to the foot of his bed and took it. There was no alcohol smell on him, he noticed. John wasn't drunk. Dean couldn't remember the last time that had been.

”Why would I?” he said.

”Because you should have, that's why.” John took the paper back.

”I wasn't planning on going.”

”Dean, it's senior prom. It's important.”

Dean shrugged. He didn't see the point of the conversation, and moved back to place his back against the wall again, redirecting his eyes to his phone.

”Since when do you care about what's important to me?” he muttered.

John sighed. ” _Always,_ Dean. I don't understand how you can doubt that.”

”Really? You can't even guess?”

 _I have a thousand reasons_ , Dean thought, _and some on them are right here on my arm._

”I think you should go”, John said softly. ”I think you should go and try to be a normal kid just once.”

”But I'm not”, _and that's your fault._

”Come, I have to show you something.”

John turned around, and Dean groaned audibly. But he knew better than to cross him even when he was sober, because those were the sort of things he remembered when he was drunk. So he slid down from the bed and followed his dad, through the hallway and down the stairs.

John stopped and motioned with his hand. On the living room door hung a suit, black, stylish and expensive-looking, and presumably of Dean's size.

”I picked this up today”, John said. ”Do you like it?”

Dean didn't care about clothes, and definitely not suits. But he didn't say this, just bit his lip and nodded his head.

”It starts in half an hour according to the invitation”, John said. ”Change and I'll drive you and your date.”

”Dad, I don't have a date.”

Dean twisted, uncomfortable before he had even gotten the thing on, because the mention of a date was just...

”Don't say that”, John said, smiling hopefully at him. ”Who knows what the night can bring?”

***

”Say cheese!”

”CHEEEESE!” Gabriel shouted, flashing the camera the largest smile it had ever seen.

Cas didn't say a word, but settled at pulling the edges of his mouth up a little bit, into something that almost counted as a smile. The camera's flash went off, and when it was lowered his parents' proud faces were revealed on the other side.

”Our big boy”, dad said.

”Too big”, mom grimaced.

Gabriel smiled at Castiel, squeezing him tighter with the arm he had flung around his neck.

”Ready to get going, big boy?”

What a wonderful night it was for him. He was going to prom and he would be graduating soon, he held the entire world in his hands and all its riches were within his reach. It was a big, wonderful, important night, and Cas muttered, ”Shut up”, and broke away from him.

He escaped the house accompanied by his parents' shouted encouragements and well wishes, and Gabriel following while waving them off and thanking them.

Castiel raised his hand to his face, touching his black eye and wincing at the pain it still produced. Not that the feeling was him very foreign, it was far from the first time his face had looked like that. Gabriel had spent the better part of an entire afternoon convincing his parents that it had happened the way he had said. He had emphasized Dean Winchester's involvement too, and Cas hadn't bothered to correct him even if he had left it out himself. He knew that trying to defend him at that point would have been useless and worked in nobody's favour, but luckily no one had decided to go across the street and bark at John.

In the pocket of his suit his cell felt like it was burning a hole. The text was still open there.

_Happy prom night, do you have a date?_

Cas hadn't replied, and wouldn't either. It wasn't any of _his_ business if he did, but if things went according to plan; he actually might.

He opened the door to the backseat of Gabriel's car and got inside, turning around to give his parents one last ”teenager excited about senior prom”-smile.

”Hi, Cas”, Hannah said, turning around in the passenger seat. ”Everything all right?”

She was very pretty, she had done her hair, covered her face in make-up and squeezed herself into a pink chiffon dress. Of course, it was _prom._

”Yeah”, Cas said. ”And you?”

Before she could reply, Gabriel dove in through the driver's door and attacked her face with his mouth. Cas waited patiently, though he could feel his smile try to fade. He knew it would take a while.

***

What made prom so unbearable, Dean was convinced, was not the complete absence of friends and entertainment, but the fact that there was no alcohol. As in none at all, as in they all had to blow into breathalyzers and be searched before they entered the gym and no one had managed to sneak anything in. But with just a bit of vodka or even a sip of beer, Dean knew he would have been able to power through it, despite being completely alone.

Michael, Gadreel and Raphael were – understandably – out of his life, for good. They wouldn't look at him, speak to him or acknowledge his existence. Dean was being ignored. He was being frozen out like a middle school girl with double ponytails, by the slightly more sophisticated ex-friends that had grown out of them and started wearing their hair down a few months before her.

But he didn't mind that at all, partly because he wasn't the one acting that way, and of course also because he didn't want to be around them ever again. He had never liked them, but it wasn't until lately that he had grown to hate them with a passion. Not because they would hate him if they knew what he was (why would he care what they thought?) but because they had tormented Cas, and no one was allowed to do that.

So on prom night, Dean was alone, though they probably wouldn't have bothered to show either way. They weren't there at all, so he was relieved, fearing that they might have felt like making a scene. There were no scenes. All there was was silly love songs, awkward teenage dancing, sloppy first kisses, and the occasional braces getting stuck with each other.

From his place by the wall, Dean had already counted two of those. He would probably see more before the night was over though, because it appeared to be incredibly difficult to kiss with braces, and there was nothing he could do but stand by the side and observe. That was what he had done for well over an hour. He had sipped on the same glass of punch, grinned at the odd chaperoning teacher passing him by every once in a while, and stood with his back leaned against the wall and legs that were starting to ache, always with one eye at the gigantic clock. The seconds went by slowly, and the minutes never ended.

The light was – and made everything else – pink, so all that was to be seen in the relative darkness was illuminated by a color more appropiate to cotton candy. The music became slower, and people started dancing closer to each other.

 _Life is horrible,_ Dean thought, watching the figures pass by. All were pairs, except for him. _Life is horrible and pink._

Well, except for him and that one other person that was sitting by the wall on the other side of the room.

***

His knee didn't enjoy standing still for long period, but as he had no one to dance with and nothing else to do; it had to get fucking used to it. But of course it didn't, and Cas had soon placed himself on the floor instead and crossed his legs.

He wouldn't third wheel. He wouldn't disturb Gabriel and Hannah's dancing, try to make conversation with Garth as he made his way to ask that girl (what was her name again?) to a dance, or pull any of the other guys away from their dates. He wouldn't be the pathetic, gay single friend, and _third wheel._

He was listening to the music instead, or so he wanted them to think. He smiled and moved his head along to the rhythm, or what he hoped was the rhythm. Because the truth was that he didn't hear that rhythm at all, even less the words.

Cas wasn't listening to the music at all. He was looking at a person on the other side of the room, the only other person in there to be alone, and he was slowly gathering up the courage he so desperately needed. His heart was beating like mad, and he must be sweating. It _was_ warm though, wasn't it? Much warmer than a high school dance would usually be. And Cas was gasping for air. He almost couldn't breathe.

But eventually he could stand up, and slowly, with his heart still hammering in his chest, glide over the dance floor and across the room. The closer he got, the clearer he could see the surprise on Dean's face. His eyes were big and he was frowning, but other than shocked, Cas couldn't see what he felt.

He stopped a few feet in front of him, a bit unsure of what to do next.

”Sorta thought you'd have a date”, he said.

Dean just shook his head. Cas reached out the punch glass he had saved for him, and Dean took it with a suspicious look on his face.

”I haven't drugged it or anything”, Cas said. ”They took my Rohypnol at the door.”

Dean smiled. He had a cup in both hands now, Cas noticed.

”That's-”

”I know what roofies are”, Dean said.

”Yeah, you would.”

”Excuse me?”

His voice was louder, and Cas instinctively shut his mouth and became tense. But Dean started laughing, awkwardly but genuinely. And relieved, Cas realized.

He joined in, and they both laughed for several seconds. When there was nothing left to laugh at they got quiet again, and in the silence Cas found the only chance he would ever get.

”Why did you do that?” he asked.

Dean furrowed his brows. ”What?”

”You hit them for me”, Cas said.

Dean shrugged.

”I've done it before.”

Yes, he had, a long time before. It had been there longer than Cas had known, and he hadn't seen it then, but he knew it now.

”I think I understand it now”, he said.

And he did. He saw it so clearly; Michael, Gadreel, Raphael and all their comments and jokes, and in the middle of it all – Dean. Looking uncomfortable, staring back at Cas, breathing out, ”What the fuck are you looking at?” Cas understood everything.

It couldn't be excused, but it could be explained. And it couldn't be forgotten, but it could be forgiven.

Noam would have snorted, turned around, or sneered, ”Understand what?” But Dean wasn't Noam. He didn't snort, turn around or sneer. He just nodded.

”You asked me if I was in love with you.” Cas had started moving his legs subconsciously. ”And I was. I _am.”_

It didn't matter that someone could hear or see them, but Cas wasn't sure they could. In that moment, he didn't know if they actually existed at all, if the dancing people behind him hadn't disappeared completely the moment he looked into Dean's eyes.

Dean didn't care either. He smiled, placed his two plastic cups on the floor, grabbed Cas' hand, and said, ”Come.”

***

Cas was stumbling after him through the dark and deserted hallway, and when Dean turned his head to look at him, he could see that he was smiling. He still had his hand in his, and he had never felt more alive.

The cold air of outside surrounded them, and the door closed behind them. Dean let go of Cas and turned around. For a few seconds they looked at each other from a distance of several feet, both panting and looking at each other confused. But then Dean smiled again, and at once Cas did too.

This kiss, he initiated. It was nothing like Dean's, a soft, trembling and small peck on the lips. It was hard, hungry and demanding, with his teeth biting his lips and his hands on Dean's face. He turned him around, pushed him against the wall and pressed all his weight against him, and Dean wanted more. Of Cas on his tiptoes, of his lips on his and his tongue in his mouth, and of him rubbing against him as if he had waited for it for just as long as Dean – and 13 years is a long time.

But they both had to breathe, and Cas had to get down from his toes and stand normally for a while. They grinned like idiots, both of them, and Dean searched Cas' eyes with his own. Eventually he looked up, and Dean's heart didn't skip a beat, but do something else that was very odd and can't be explained with words.

”Come”, he repeated, realizing that it had been the last word either of them had said in a while.

He grabbed Cas' both hands and led him to the grass, walking backwards.

”Do you dance?”

”Do I dance?” Cas laughed.

”Yes.” Dean bit his lip suggestively. ”Do you dance?”

”No, Dean, I don't-”

Before he could finish, Dean let go of one his hands and did a pirouette, turning around to grab it again. Cas threw his head back and laughed.

”I've never actually done that”, Dean admitted, ”but I _have_ watched a few movies.”

There was music escaping an open window of the gym, almost as clear and loud as it was in there.

” _Tell my love to wreck it all_

_Cut out all the ropes and let me fall”_

Cas looked at him with that huge, wonderful smile. Dean intertwined their fingers, moved in closer, and pulled Cas toward himself with a hand on his back. At first he was stiff and wrinkled his nose disapprovingly, but one look at Dean and he caved in and put his head on his shoulder.

” _And I told you to be patient_

_And I told you to be fine_

_And I told you to be balanced_

_And I told you to be kind_

_And in the morning I'll be with you_

_But it will be a different kind”_

And like that they moved slowly to the music, carefully stepping around in a small circle.

It was true. Dean never had done that before. But now he would do it again and again and again, with Cas he would do it every night for the rest of his life.

” _'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets_

_And you'll be owning all the fines”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is far from over, stay tuned for more RIDICULOUS ANGST and UNNECESSARY DRAMA!


	17. Memories tend to just pop up

Of course he wished that they could do it out in the open; walk down the street holding hands like any other couple, and not have to meet exclusively in each other's bedrooms when no parents were around, sneaking across the road in the dark like criminals, as if anything about them was bad and wrong. Of course there were times when Cas wanted to scream it out to the world, and when he saw Dean in school he wanted to kiss him and let everyone know that he was _his._ That this wonderful, amazing, fantastic person belonged to _him._ But then he couldn't, and it was like a dagger to his heart, until Dean looked back at him and just smiled.

 _Why do they need to know?_ he always thought then. They didn't notice that smile, what difference would it make if they knew that it was reserved only for Cas? His heart swelled, his stomach turned and his cheeks became warm, because there was something special about being the only one to know it. So few things had been just for him, only his, not for public display or scrutiny, and none of them were good. He had only the bad things left, the bad things, and Dean.

It wasn't scary, he wasn't afraid. Even though it was eerily similar to Noam, it wasn't the same. Cas couldn't tell what it was that made the difference, but it was there. Noam too had been sweet and gentle, loving and caring. His smile had looked just like that, and Cas had felt precisely the same about it. He couldn't put any imagined and very romantic reasons that Dean was absolutely different, that he was Special. Except for-

”We're going to do this for real”, he said. ”One day, I promise, we're going to be a real couple one day.”

 _One day._ That day wasn't today because of so many reasons; Dean needing to come out, his friends (who Cas hadn't heard him mention in very long), Gabriel, Cas' parents... One day, not today.

But Cas knew that day would actually come, that it wasn't a lie or an empty promise. Because that was what was different, that was what Noam had never said. Out of all the things he had done, he had never managed to tell that one simple lie. With Noam, Cas had always known deep down that the day was never coming, that the future he was dreaming about would never be a reality. But Dean had promised. Dean had promised, and Cas believed him.

”I thought we already did”, he said. ”I thought we already were.”

Dean smiled, wrapped an arm around him, and kissed him on the forehead. Cas nuzzled in against his shoulder and felt him tense up and then relax like he always did, and realized that that was another thing that separated him from Noam. That half-second breathholding and the soft sigh when he continued breathing, that was only Dean's.

***

The first time, Dean was horrified. He thought maybe they should wait, maybe they didn't have to do it at all, maybe he could just change his mind and turn back. It was so final, it was so big, and if he did it there would be no way to deny it any more, no way to pass it off as a phase or confusion. But when Cas asked, up close, lips a kissing distance away and his hands on his shoulders.

”Do you want to?” he asked. ”We don't have to if you don't want to.”

They were both breathing heavily already, his lips already ached from kisses and the feeling was moving through his stomach and down, and Dean couldn't say no. He didn't want to say no.

”I do want to”, he whispered in the same tone. ”It's just, I don't know how.”

That was true. His hands were trembling and his legs shaking, and he had no idea where to go next, what to do about everything and get rid of the thing in his pants.

”It's okay”, Cas said. Half-jokingly he added, ”I'll show you.”

Dean tried to laugh and only snorted, but the tension was still gone.

And Cas showed him, he showed him a wonderful world where it was just them, and Cas' hands on him and his hands on Cas', and Cas' mouth against his, and Cas next to him, Cas with him, Cas in him, where they were the same and he didn't know what bodypart belonged to who or who was doing what, only that evertyhing was so _good._ Just good and right, and nothing bad or wrong, and he wondered how he ever could have thought that it was.

The next time, Dean was not horrified. He knew exactly what he wanted to do and what he wanted Cas to do, and he couldn't wait. He could tell that Cas was having trouble keeping up, but he couldn't slow down, he had waited so long and couldn't waste another second. They were kissing, ripping off each other's clothers and pushing against each other, and Cas was stumbling, but Dean was in a hurry and just kept on pushing and pushing. And then Cas was slammed sideways into his dresser and shouted ”Fuck!” and Dean stopped and went still and quiet and couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think anything but _I hurt him. I hurt him like Noam._

”I'm so sorry”, he whispered. ”I'm so sorry.”

He knew pain. He knew pain caused by someone you care for. And he knew he wasn't better than Noam or John.

”It's fine.” Cas cupped his face and smiled with both his eyes and his mouth. ”Dean, it's nothing. It's fine.”

He was kissing Dean again, he was getting closer again. Dean was forgetting, he was getting hotter again, he was forcing himself back into the rhythm. For Cas. For Cas, he started moving his hands again.

But Cas winced and said, ”Not there.”

Again Dean was scared.

”That's going to bruise”, Cas said.

Dean didn't know what was funny, only that he started laughing. And when Cas laughed, he too became so happy that he couldn't help but join him. They tried a little while longer, but it was difficult when they were laughing so hard they couldn't even kiss. And eventually they just collapsed onto Dean's bed in a mess of semi-undressed laughter, and Cas sometimes bringing a hand to his rips and saying, ”Please, stop! It hurts!”

But Dean couldn't stop, and neither could he. And if he was honest, that pain was worth it.

***

_I have to tell him._

The thought first came to him early in the morning, as the sun started to seep through the blinds over the windows and illuminate lines on Dean's sleeping face for Cas to watch. He looked so calm and content, so peaceful, unconcerned and just beautiful, and Cas felt suddenly that he wasn't supposed to be. He wouldn't be, if he knew how tainted and dirty Cas really was. He wouldn't have looked at him like that after they had stopped laughing and said ”I love you.”

And Cas shouldn't have said it back without first considering how he would feel once he knew. Because he had never told anyone, had never wanted to tell anyone, but Dean had to know. During all the hours they had spent together Cas had kept talking, talking and talking, telling Dean absolutely everything about the 13 years they had been apart (Dean had always remained oddly quiet and reserved, but that was fine) except for that one thing he had left out, which now needed to be said for it all to be _complete_.

He had done it unintentionally though, because he hadn't thought to say it. He didn't think about it any more, it wasn't on his mind at all most of the time. It had happened, a long time ago, and it wasn't happening any more. It was gone, it was over, it was past. But it had left him a bit ruined, slightly less of the person he had been before, and Dean deserved to know that.

Officially, Cas was sleeping over at Gabriel's. Unsurprisingly, he had been sleeping over at Gabriel's very frequently lately. His parents were the problem. John Winchester was rarely home, and didn't seem to notice Cas' presence in his house even when he was.

Cas didn't know what time it was, but he wasn't going to go back to sleep at this point, and he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts any longer. He moved in towards Dean under the covers and wrapped a leg around his. Dean furrowed his brows, disapproving already in his sleep. Cas pulled him closer with his arms and pressed his forehead against his, and he started moving his mouth skeptically.

”Are you awake?” Cas breathed.

”No”, Dean muttered.

Cas smiled.

”Do you still love me?”

”I want to say no”, Dean said slowly, ”but I'm scared you won't let me go back to sleep if I do.”

”That's not going to happen either way”, Cas kissed him, ”so you might as well say the truth.”

”Yes”, Dean said.

Cas would have to remember to ask again, after he had told him. Maybe the answer would change.

***

_I have to tell him._

It was always on repeat in Dean's mind, that one simple sentence, until it had almost lost its meaning. Until it was almost just gibberish, and he didn't actually have to do it.

But he did. Cas had told him everything, he had sat so many nights in the window with his back against the setting sun and his arms waving with involvement in the different stories and his high-sounding laugh sometimes interrupting them. And Dean had watched him, smiling, and had known that he could listen to him always, always, always. He feared the moment when Cas would go silent, look at him and just go ”Your turn.” His gut wrenched at the thought of what he would think afterwards.

It was the most important thing he would tell him, it would define everything that would come after. It was bigger than the first ”I love you”, that had just slipped out and not been a big thing at all, that he hadn't even been able to be nervous about becase he hadn't planned it. It was the end, or it was the beginning. And Dean wouldn't know which until after he had done it.

But he didn't know how to do it, he didn't have the words. He wanted to, he had to, he would, but _how_? How could he say it? It was something that happened but he didn't talk about, and he found that he couldn't.

Eventually though, he decided. It was during one of those quiet moments, when Cas too had run out of words. They sat next to each other on Dean's bed, and Cas was scrolling through some social media app Dean didn't quite understand, as he watched it from where his head was on Cas' shoulder. And he could feel it coming towards his mouth, the words he had thought he didn't have, and he opened it and they were streaming out, coming in waves, too many, too quickly, so his tongue couldn't keep up, and all he said was ”My dad.”

Just like that, with a simple dot behind it, nothing else to follow. A complete sentence. All the rest was lost, because he hadn't managed to say it out loud in time.

Cas looked down at him as he closed his phone.

”What?” he asked.

He was the only person in the world that would have known that that wasn't all of it, that would have heard it on Dean's voice.

”Nothing”, he said. ”I don't know.”

He wasn't lying. Cas looked straight again, leaned his head against his and smiled. For a few seconds it was quiet, but then the same thing that had almost happened to Dean actually happened to Cas, and he said it too.

He said: ”I knew I was gay when I was 13.”

He said: ”The first person I came out to was my football coach. I worshipped him. He was my hero.”

He said: ”He told me he was going to fix me. He was going to cure me. I didn't believe any of it, but I didn't know how to say no. And he was bigger than me. He was stronger than me. And after practice he would keep me in the locker room until everyone else had gone, and then he would try to fix me.”

Dean felt – a lot of things. Too many things. So much that he couldn't put it into words or connect emotions too it.

”It wasn't your fault”, he almost whispered after a while. ”That you didn't say no doesn't make it right. You didn't say yes either. You were-” He had to pause for a breath. ”-thirteen.”

”That's the thing”, Cas said. ”I know it wasn't my fault. And through all of it; him, my beating, Noam, what you said and did – I've never thought it was because of me. I've always known that none of it was, that there wasn't anything wrong with me or any reason I deserved it. I've always known the others were in the wrong and I am perfectly fine and okay and good, and I'm so proud of how normal I've turned out. That's why I told you, because I want you to know it too. Because I want you to feel this proud too.”

Dean had to think, he had to think for several seconds and he couldn't even come up with anything good to say anyway.

”I think”, he said slowly, as if hoping to come up with a better answer while speaking, ”one day, I might.”

”But not yet?”

Dean bit his lip, but what was the point in denying it?

”No”, he said.

”But one day”, Cas said. ”That's fine.”

One day, one day, one day. The day when they would be a real couple who wouldn't be ashamed of their love, who would kiss in public and hold hands and everything, and Dean wouldn't care what anyone else would think. He was waiting for that day.

”Do you still love me?” Cas asked.

”Of course”, Dean said.

What he hadn't said was still left for a later conversation.

 


	18. A pocket full of reasons why you're here tonight

Cas had stared at the letter for – he didn't know how long. Too long, probably. And he didn't want to do it any more, but his hands just wouldn't obey him and reach out for it, so how on earth was he supposed to actually open it?

It might have been easier if Gabriel or even his parents had been there to tell him that it was fine, that it wasn't actually a big deal and it didn't have to be an acceptance letter, to remind him that he had applied to _so many_ colleges – just in case – and this was just the first one he heard from, so even if he hadn't been accepted it didn't really matter at all. Of course, these were all things he already knew, but it would have helped to know that someone else did too.

That was when he realized that the reason he couldn't have someone else there was that his parents were both at work, and he was home alone. But he didn't have to be, because there was someone he could call that was just on the other side of the street.

***

”What the fuck's going on?”

Dean couldn't help that his voice was angrier than he had intended, because he had been so worried. Cas had sounded so helpless, weak and desperate over the phone, stuttering and refusing to say what the problem was and why he had to be there immediately, but now nothing was going on. He was just sitting by the kitchen table and staring blindly in front of himself.

”I thought Noam was here or something!” Dean shouted.

He hated himself for how it made Cas close his eyes to prepare for a punch. But someday, maybe, he wouldn't do that any more.

”I'm sorry”, he said with a blank voice. ”But I just got this letter, and-”

There he drifted off. Dean saw that he wasn't staring at nothing, but at a letter on the table in front of him. He picked it up briskly, thinking that maybe this was the bad, horrible thing he was fearing, but it hadn't even been opened.

”It's from Northwestern”, he said.

Cas nodded.

”You applied to Northwestern”, Dean said. ”Aren't you gonna open it?”

Cas shook his head.

”You open it”, he said.

”I'm sorry I yelled at you”, Dean reached the letter towards him, ”I just got really worried. But you need to open this.”

Cas looked up at him.

”Please”, he said, ”can you open it? I can't.” He looked at his hands in desperation. ”I can't.”

Dean suddenly didn't know if he could either. This was the big one, Northwestern was where Cas had wanted to get in. If this was an acceptance he wouldn't turn it down. If this was an acceptance he would disappear to Illinois, away from Dean, and leave him behind.

He had given up on getting into college himself, and they had never mentioned it again. He hadn't applied to a single one. But he had known, deep down, that this moment would one day come. That Cas would (of course he would) get accepted into one and go away forever. And without him, what did Dean have left? Michael, Gadreel and Raphael (yeah, _sure_ ), the house across the street where there only lives a nice middle-aged couple whose only child has already moved out, his dad?

 _Don't leave me,_ he thought desperately. _Cas, you are all I have. Never leave me._

But he didn't say that. He didn't say anything. Instead he did just as Cas had asked, because he could never do anything else, and opened the envelope.

***

”To the birthday boy!” Gabriel yelled over the crowd, standing on a chair and raising his red plastic cup. ”Who just got into Northwestern!”

Loud cheers, drunk congratulations. Cas pretended to be grateful, on the chair in the corner where he had decided to hide. But there was no hiding from Gabe, not for him.

Someone dunked him in the back. Maybe it was Garth. Cas couldn't tell. He was already getting pretty drunk. How many times had he filled up his own cup at this point?

They all forgot about him again after that, Gabriel's speech wasn't longer and people preferred to grind against each other instead of actually making sure he was enjoying his birthday party. And by the way, he wasn't.

He had actually preferred the calm dinner with his parents, and absolutely loved their winks and meaning looks and how loud and obvious they had been about having to go away, maybe all night, yes, probaby all night, definitely, they wouldn't be back until the morning, would they? And it was awful that they couldn't spend his entire birthday with him, but he would manage, wouldn't he? Wink, wink. Then they had obviously had to call Gabe to make sure, and when they had learned that Cas had actually not been planning a party, they had given him that assignment. And he had taken it very seriously.

There were more people than Cas thought he would have been able to scramble together with such short notice, and alcohol to last them all a year. (His parents had probably been involved in that, because even though Gabriel was 18 and could technically buy it himself, he didn't have that kind of money.) There was even a banner, kinda sloppy but still perfectly acceptable. _Happy 18_ _th_ _Cass,_ it said. Gabe always wrote it like that. Cas wondered where he got that second S from.

He actually thought he would have enjoyed it, if Dean had been there. It felt strange and unnatural to have a boyfriend and not spend one's birthday with him, especially when it was such a big one. He would know there was a party going on, of course he would see it from across the street because they weren't exactly being subtle about it, but Cas knew he was too smart to actually go there, not with Gabriel and the entire football team acting bodyguards. Cas had noticed that they were all holding back on the drinking and keeping watchful eyes on him.

 _Pathetic,_ he thought. He didn't know if he meant him or them.

He missed Dean. He drowned out the feelings with cheap beer but didn't participate in the games or the dancing – and was that weed over there? -, that much he couldn't pretend. Gabe would of course assume that it was a bad day but he wouldn't know why, and maybe that was why he was coming over now. And maybe that was why he was dragging some poor kid along with him.

He looked pretty cute, blue-eyed, with brown hair and some sort of childish vibe to him even though he must have been around their age, if not older.

”This is Samandriel”, Gabriel half-shouted before they were close enough to actually speak.

 _He's gay,_ his eyes said. _Out and thoroughly researched and approved._

Cas just nodded his head.

”This is Cas”, Gabriel continued.

”Hi.” Samandriel reached out a hand that Cas shook half-heartedly. ”Happy birthday.”

”Thanks.”

And like that, Gabe saw his work as done and had disappeared. Samandriel pulled a chair up closer to Cas' and sat down on its edge with his back straight. He placed his hands on his lap and didn't look directly at him, quietly nervous.

”Are you the most sober person here?” Cas asked.

”I just got here”, Samandriel said. ”I got off work like half an hour ago.”

”Where do you work?”

”Wiener hut.”

Cas wouldn't have laughed if he was sober, but now he wasn't.

”Wow”, he said. ”Is it- a good place to work?”

”Not as bad as you might think.”

Samandriel was getting more relaxed, his body was getting softer and less controlled.

 _He thinks we're flirting,_ Cas realized. _He thinks Gabe set us up because I wanted him to._

”Did he tell you about me?” he asked. He was going to scare him away.

”About what?” Samandriel could look directly at him now.

”My dark past.” It wasn't even a lie.

”No, he didn't.”

”I knew a Sammy once”, Cas said.

”I prefer Sam”, Samandriel said.

”Thing is...” Cas took a sip of his beer. What harm could it do? ”I have a boyfriend.”

Wiener Hut-Sam chuckled nervously.

”He didn't say that either.”

”It's because he doesn't know.”

Was that Dean? Over by the door, peaking inside for just half a second before disappearing again? It shouldn't be, but Cas hadn't drank _that_ much. He stumbled to his feet, he wanted to get away from this place that was his home but had been invaded by drunk high schoolers, he wanted to leave Wiener Hut-Sam without any wrong ideas.

”I gotta go”, he made himself mumble. ”I'm sorry, I need some air.”

”Do you want me to come with?” Samandriel asked.

Cas turned around and looked at him.

”No”, he said more sternly than intended. ”No, I don't!”

He left his beer and ran.

***

He didn't know for sure that Cas had actually seen him, they had looked _right_ at each other for a good second, but he had looked suspiciously confused. Dean had never seen him drunk. He wondered if it was good or bad for the situation.

He put his hands in his pockets, breathed deeply and started pacing back and forth over the lawn. He hadn't dared taken the front door and stood out there like an idiot for anyone who might have come out to see, but he was slowly beginning to realize that these kinds of parties often ended up in the back yard either way. If Cas wasn't coming any time soon-

Dean heard the door open behind him, and there he was. He broke out into a huge smile.

”I wasn't sure it was you.” He closed the door carefully behind him.

”Maybe you were occupied by that guy you were sitting with”, Dean teased.

Cas started walking down the grass towards him. ”You mean Wiener Hut-Sam?”

”Oh, that's his name?”

”Mm.” Cas flung his arms around his shoulders and stuck his face up next to his, and Dean was smiling like a fool.

”What's a Wiener Hut?” he asked, pressing his forehead down to Cas'.

”It's a fast food restaurant”, Cas said.

”I thought it was a condom.”

Cas broke into a laugh and had to let go of him to cover his mouth with his hands. ”I didn't even think of that!”

”That innocent, are we?”

”You know I'm not.” Cas winked. Dean laughed.

He took his hands out from his pockets as Cas slowly gathered himself together.

”Happy birthday”, he said.

”Thank you”, Cas said. ”I'm kinda drunk. Sorry.”

”It's fine. You're fun when you're drunk.”

”And I'm not when I'm not?” Cas eyes started moving confusedly, as his brain tried to piece together if that sentence was correct and as he had intented. ”Wait-”

Dean laughed again, and pulled him in by his neck for a kiss on the forehead.

”Can I come with you?” he blurted out, sooner and blunter than he had planned.

Cas froze under his hand, became a stone statue in a second. Dean let go of him and took a step back. Cas was furrowing his brows, and Dean was aware of how agonizingly desperate he must be looking.

”What do you mean?” Cas asked after a few seconds.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, trying to seem casual. ”Illinois.”

”What would you want to do in Illinois?”

”I could get a job, like as a car mechanic or something.” Cas was staring at him seriously, as if he wasn't drunk, and Dean had to look up at the night sky instead, full of stars. ”If you'd want to live in an apartment off-campus with me, and we could afford it, especially if you'd want to take some extra job.” He scratched the back of his head. ”I mean, that's just a plan I sorta came up with, I don't know...”

He lost his voice and his words.

”Do you want that?” Cas asked. Dean couldn't tell what was wrong with his voice.

He looked back at him. ”It's all I want.”

Cas wrapped his arms around himself, bit his lip and looked down at the ground. All was lost.

”Don't you?” Dean tried desperately.

”It's just so big”, Cas whispered. ”It's such a big decision, and, Dean, you're not even out.” He breathed out. ”I'm not gonna pretend to be your roommate.”

Dean shook his head. ”No, it wouldn't be like that, Cas. I'll come out. I'll tell fucking everyone, kiss you on live TV if it's what it'd take.”

Cas smiled half-heartedly at the ground for a second.

”But then there's my parents”, he said quietly.

”What about them?”

”They wouldn't approve.”

”Who cares?” Dean flung out his arms. ”Cas, this is your fucking 18th birthday. You're not some kid any more, if you tell them it's fine it's fine. You can do whatever you want, you don't have to listen to _him,_ or Noam, or Gabriel or your parents.”

Cas nodded.

”Cas...” Dean slowly let his arms drop back down again. ”If you don't want this, just say it.”

_And I'd be heartbroken, but I wouldn't get angry at you, I wouldn't hit you._

Cas looked at him. ”Who says I don't?”

Dean blinked in confusion. ”What?”

”Who – says – I – _don't?”_

Dean could feel himself smile.

”I never did.” Cas smirked.

”So you-”

”Of course I do!” He smiled and seemed to try to indicate with his hands that this was obvious. ”Of course I want you to come to Illinois and whatever comes next! I want to move in with you, shit, at some point I'd want to marry you.” He shrugged his shoulders. ”I mean, I've already proposed, haven't I? And as we never actually broke it off, technically we are still engaged.”

”Kinda fast”, Dean said affectionately.

 _He's just drunk,_ he thought.

But he found, strangely, that he didn't mind that future very much. That the idea of a wedding with another man, a thought that would have been horrible just a year ago, now didn't seem as unnatural as it once would have. Not when that other man was Cas.

”It's been 13 years!” he yelled happily.

He was drunk and getting loud in his happiness, and Dean knew just the way to shut him right up before anyone would come wandering to see what was going on. He grabbed his face and kissed him, hard, with the knowledge that they would have an entire life together. And there was no fear of coming out, of moving to Illinois, of one day (this was _insane!_ ) getting married. Just Cas' mouth against his and his smile disappearing and the kiss growing heavier and hungrier.

And the sound of the door behind him closing, and when Dean opened his eyes and looked, Gabriel with wide eyes and clenched fists.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's actually getting quite close to the end now, god, how long has this been going on? But now it's just 2-3 more chapters coming, and then I swear you're off the hook.


End file.
